Bond of Sun and Moon
by Ripper101
Summary: Jareth and Toby have a certain situation and Toby must go back to the Underground forever. But trouble awaits him there... 'R' rated for slash, rape, angst, torture and other such dark things. Updated.
1. Bonded

﻿ Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or their worlds. 

Pairing: Slash warning.

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Jareth paced the corridors of his Castle for days, trying to find out what exactly it was that itched under his skin like a thousand ants. A thought, an emotion tickled at his mind, flitting elusively away when he blundered after it. Some part of him felt raw and rubbed... It was all beginning to annoy him. He had had to put his Kingdom back to rights, to see to his Labyrinth, to take care of those annoying trio of defectors, and he had had to do it all while repressing the urge to shout from all the pent-up frustrations.

"Sire, watch out!" piped up behind him just as he trod on something that let out a howl of pain and proceeded to hop around on one foot. He glared at the goblin that dared to get in his way and swept on, too involved in his thoughts to bother with the infernal nuisance. Until a thought struck him. "You there," he yelled, spinning on his heel.

The goblin stopped hopping and limped to his King with a look of abject submission on his squashed face. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

Jareth thought some more about it and then nodded decisively. "Have Arienne brought to me. Tell him I require a healer immediately."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Cogwheel gulped, bowing low and then turning to scamper down the corridor.

Jareth resumed his pacing through the castle, a black-gloved finger tapping against his pursed lips. He didn't think anyone had worked any magic on him. But if not that, then what was it? It was six months since Sarah Williams had beaten him at his own game... was he pining for his lost winning streak? Or was he in need of revenge? Oh Gods, he surely wasn't missing the brat, was he? He was not an emotional person!

Far from emotional, really. But then he was beginning to think that someone was trying to drive him mad. Not that he was in danger of losing his mind. Some considered he had already lost most of that, but no. He was still sane. If it was someone trying to drive him mad then they were not doing a good job of it. Which still begged the question of who it was and why they would decide to do it. Jareth usually wasn't cursed for no reason at all.

Perhaps it was not a curse. In which case he had no idea what was going on. He might be ill. The Underground was full of strange illnesses that no one but the healers understood. He stopped for a moment as nausea threatened again, tugging physically at his stomach as if to pull it from his body. The taste at the back of his throat was vile and he swallowed distastefully. Flight- what he needed was some uninterrupted time to think things through. Yes. He would go up to the parapets of his Castle and he would take bird form and he would fly for a time. He changed directions with a purposeful stride.

"Your Majesty?"

He stopped short from ascending the stairs to the turret and turned, his senses narrowing from the roaring call of the wind outside to the old goblin standing before him, intelligent eyes twinkling at him. "Arienne, I require your aid," he said, plunging in without preamble, "There's something wrong with me but I don't know what."

Arienne kept a smile from his face. He'd watched this Jareth grow from a babe to a man; he knew the Goblin King inside and out. He was never bothered by the arrogant dismissal. "Of course, Sire. Is this a physical malady?" Jareth shook his head impatiently. "Is there is a room in which I can examine you?"

Jareth nodded and bade him follow to a room in the tower. He didn't like that word- 'examine'. It meant too much invasion into his privacy.

"Your right hand, Your Majesty," Arienne said softly, holding out his hand.

Jareth sighed and gave it to him, closing his eyes as Arienne let his magic out to trace contours. It tickled. That and it made his mind uncomfortably full of thoughts and memories, half-formed and too vivid- Jareth's parents, Sarah dancing in his arms, the last War, Jareth playing with Toby, lovers from the past, the Labyrinth, the goblins he laughed with, the coat he'd worn for his Coronation and...

Arienne let his hand drop with a barely muffled exclamation of surprise.

Jareth opened his mismatched eyes and raised an enquiring eyebrow. "What's wrong?" he asked dubiously.

Arienne searched those eyes. "Sire, don't you know you are bonded?"

The Goblin King blinked, his jaw dropped. "Bonded?" he echoed blankly. Oh, he knew what bonds were. He'd studied them avidly for years, watched to see what they could do to people. But always to others, damn it! He'd waited for the right time for so long, had been so rigidly careful and select about relationships, looking for that one absolutely empathetic spark…. And now! So soon! Well, not soon, because he was certainly old enough, but so sudden. He hadn't even thought, or planned. He couldn't have gone and gotten himself bonded to anyone that he knew of. They weren't right! They weren't worth it! It could not, in short, be possible. He drew himself up to his full height, eyes flashing fire. "That's impossible!"

"I'm very much afraid that it is not," Arienne corrected, taking Jareth's hand back and drawing the thin lines of light out into the open where the Goblin King could see them. "Sire, such magicks are not to be trifled with. You are suffering from withdrawal. Do you get nausea?"

"Yes."

"Headaches? Mood swings? Inexplicable thoughts or emotions that do not really correspond to your state of mind?"

"Yes."

"Insomnia interspersed with frequent surreal dreams that involve one particular person?"

Jareth looked his distaste but sighed. "Yes."

"A sudden and unexpected craving for company that is never quite satisfied?"

"Yes."

"Well, that sounds reasonably like the symptoms for missing your bonded lover."

Jareth shook his head and began to pace around the small, round room, his brow furrowed and his equilibrium shattered. "But that's not possible. None of this is! It's adverse magic; it has to be. I'm merely suffering from- from delusion or boredom. I do not make the mistake of bonding with any of my partners!"

"I, ah, have not probed for an actual name, Sire, but if you are in doubt, the dreams should have revealed the person in question. You need only claim her and such irritation will disappear."

"I have not bonded with anyone, Arienne."

The half-goblin sighed. When would people realize that bonds were really quite easy to forge? All one needed was an unguarded emotional moment of shared need and shared empathy and the deed was done. And that Jareth had had plenty of opportunity for, ahem, unguarded emotional moments and need, was a fact the entire Kingdom knew. It was something they overlooked in the behaviour of their King. And currently the King had never looked as confused as he stared helplessly out the window. Arienne gave a discreet cough; drawing Jareth's attentions back to him. "Sire, forgive me for my plain speaking in advance and remember that I do so only because of my closeness to you and your family."

Jareth nodded impatiently and turned, desperate for anything that might get him out of such a predicament. His voluptuous Farrah might be pretty but he'd go insane if he had to live with her shrieking and possessive rages for the rest of his life. "Of course, of course! You've helped me with delicate matters before. I think you can speak plainly in my presence."

Arienne repressed a shudder at that telling reminder, recalling the embarrassing aspects of that incident when Jareth had been an awkward child. But not all the memories were bad. There was that talk when Jareth had been older- eighteen, was it not? He still got the urge to laugh when he thought of that day. "Jareth, you cannot possibly be saying that you do not know who it is you've bonded yourself to?"

Jareth raised an eyebrow. "I can't," he admitted honestly.

"What about that mistress of yours- Alice? I heard the rumours, Jareth; even in my part of the Kingdom."

Jareth snorted and shook his head. "I'm afraid Alice went years ago, Arienne. And I have only been getting this confusion for six months now. It can't be her. And it certainly isn't her successor. And very definitely not Farrah!"

Arienne shook his head. He wracked his brains to think of who it could be. Well, bonds were tricky like that. Easy to forge, but complex to understand. It was a puzzle that with all his study, Jareth was taken so unawares. Most people felt it form instantly. "Perhaps there is a woman who you greatly admire? Sex is not always a necessary catalyst for bonding."

Jareth stopped dead, his eyes widening as his hand white-knuckled the stone window ledge. "By all that's pure," he breathed, "No! No bloody fears! I am not bonded to her! I did not bond to her! I would not have done so under any circumstance! Not by any stretch of the imagination! No. It can't be true."

Arienne tried to think of the one person who fit his description and could cause such a reaction in the normally controlled King. There was just one person- "You would be thinking of Sarah Williams, would you not? She certainly fits the requirements, Jareth."

"No," Jareth shouted, looking mutinously at his Healer from under furious brows.

Arienne did the only calm thing he could think of- he gripped Jareth's right hand in his palm, patting it soothingly as he murmured the necessary distracting words to make the agitated Goblin King allow him to insert probes to get at the truth. True to form, the truth was a little more twisted than even he'd considered. He debated telling Jareth.

"Arienne, if you have quite finished finding out the answers, I would appreciate being apprised of them." Cold, deadly voice and of course, Jareth was a dangerous man. Arienne never fooled himself into forgetting that.

"It is not Sarah Williams," he said bluntly, watching in some amusement as Jareth relaxed, "Neither is it your current light o' love. It is, however, an interesting connection all things considered. In fact, Jareth, you really must let me question you on how you developed such a bond. It hasn't been seen in the Noble class of this Kingdom for centuries. And never in such circumstances that I know of!"

Jareth blinked in confusion. He tried to think of the figure in his dreams. But all he saw was a shadowy form, disappearing before he could recognize the face. Long golden hair and he remembered a pair of blue eyes. The mouth was wide and soft, he knew that. But apart from a sense of individual features, he had no idea what his bonded lover looked like.

Arienne cleared his throat and explained the situation.

A loud cry of denial echoed through the castle, shattering delicate silence as unbridled emotions laced with powerful magic ran rampant through the stony corridors.


	2. Mirror Images

﻿ 

Toby woke up suddenly, a hand pressed to his mouth to stop a cry breaking through. His eyes darted frantically around the bare room, checking to make sure that there really was no one there.

As always after one of Those Dreams, he prepared himself to sit up all night, his knees pulled to his chest as he tried to remember what he had seen. People... no, things! Things dancing around him... laughing and drinking and talking and one pale shadow presiding over it all. Toby couldn't remember who the pale shadow was. It wasn't a woman, though somehow that fact seemed irrelevant. The figure seemed to defy such a classification as if on principle. And that scared him more than he'd ever thought possible.

He stared out the window and wished fearfully for morning. With dawn could come healing. Someone had once told him that, someone he couldn't really place but knew from school. And why had they said that again? Oh yes! It was in those days when the dreams would hit him even in class. And one day that someone had heard him beg the shadow to let him go. A leaflet on child abuse had been pressed into his hand; bespectacled eyes had begged him earnestly to "get help". Get help! Great! Fantastic! But he'd tried that already.

Fingernails raked themselves up and down his arms almost absently, until Toby became aware of what he was doing. A low burning was creeping over his skin, sliding down until it pooled between his legs, tugging and pulling insistently. But he could ignore it! He really could!

Toby opened his blue eyes and stared at the mirror opposite his bed, wondering why he even kept it there. Longish blond hair mussed from sleeping, framing a boyish face with a soft full mouth. Elaine had said he had a mouth made to be kissed. It hadn't stopped her leaving, though.

"You don't talk to me any more," shrill and whiny as a shrew, "You never listen. The only time you pay attention is when we make out. I want someone that respects me, you know, not just wants me to shut my eyes and open my mouth."

Toby could have laughed. He had respected her! But of course she never believed it. She kept wanting things, wanting more than he was prepared to give. He wasn't distant, just awkward. What was he supposed to say to her anyway? He liked her well enough; he found her attractive. But he wasn't going to spend every spare moment wishing she were there so he could tell her all about the time he cried for some unspecified reason when he was an unspecified age. They were fifteen! They weren't meant to be arguing like an old married couple! And so ended his one and only try at romance. He didn't need it anyway.

He turned his gaze back to the mirror showed him a lean, pale body with sinewy arms and a smooth chest. No hair. It made gym locker rooms very deadly, looking like he deliberately shaved his body to remove every tiny hair. He didn't! Maybe it was his mother's genes? She didn't seem to spend heaps of time waxing her legs or anything. Not that he would really know if she… he didn't want to know.

Unmarked skin- made to be touched, made to be felt. His fingers reached up, trailing feather-light fingertips over his shoulders.

His head fell back, glorying in the touch, just the way he liked it. But this was so deliciously perverse. The pale shadow was somewhere in his head, brief glimpses of long, long legs and moon-pale blond hair. Like the dreams where the strange beings left, and it was only the two of them. The shadow would touch him and it didn't matter any more that it was a dream or a hallucination or whatever. It felt so good! And somehow the shadow seemed to smile in a particularly eager way when they did this. He didn't know why. But maybe if he could see. He stroked his neck, deliberately pressing down a bit just to feel his heartbeat pick up in shock. A brief smile at the back of his mind and now he needed to see. This shadow- what would that shadow see him as in those dreams... He opened his eyes and they fell straight on the mirror. He saw himself, then, mouth open and lips wet from where he had licked them. Hands roaming so wantonly.

From that point on his eyes never shut or moved from the sight of his own hands making love to his own body. Writhing on his knees as he finally rewarded his submission with a hand between his legs. Touching... silken soft touching that made him want to cry and beg for mercy because it hurt so bad.

His heart was racing, his head was pounding and the fingers that reached underneath to enter were doing a good enough job that he whimpered his need.

"Faster... please!"

His reflection only showed him how lost he was.

And he was disgusted; he couldn't help it! He was sixteen, damn it! And there was at least one girl in school who would be delighted to do this for him! But here he was, lost in his depravity and watching it.

But another part of him, the dark dormant part that never spoke except in the night, told him he looked beautiful. Hissed pleasure at him until Toby was light-headed and reeling. Shadows flickered. His eyes widened in the mirror. He added another finger to the two inside him and couldn't stifle a moan of pain.

God, it hurt!

But he couldn't stop; he didn't want to! He wasn't sure why but he had no control on his hands. Never had! His eyes were someone else's; his hands belonged to another. And both worshipped him until he was open and vulnerable under their direction.

"More..."

Yes, his other half whispered, so very greedy.

"Tell me..."

The fingers twisted and he bit his tongue to stifle a cry. Why was he doing this? He wasn't gay. He'd never got urges like that with other guys. Shit, his father would kill him if he knew about the dreams, let alone a boyfriend! Toby was so ashamed. He wanted to stop, truly he did. He knew how this would end.

"Please, no..."

A raw silk voice whispered sweet words in his ear. He couldn't understand them, couldn't hear more than the rough murmur of sound.

Shadows lengthened and for a second his reflection showed him a pair of mismatched eyes, one blue and the other tinted brown. He blinked in shock, gasping at the level of lust and then something was inside him, something oh, so very delightful.

Toby's head was rolling on his shoulders, hunched forward to better accommodate whatever it was inside of him. He was flying. The smell of forests and wet earth and his eyes couldn't leave his own reflection. Finally, with a mewl of need Toby fell forward to the mattress and ground his hips frantically against the annoyingly smooth sheets of his bed, trying to work up the friction to give himself one last bout of pleasure.

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In a faraway castle in a faraway land, the Goblin King sat up in bed and sighed heavily, looking down with some moroseness at his now sticky sheets.

Not only had he had to have such an embarrassing situation- as if he were a callow youth all over again- but he had to dream of the one person he'd been trying to forget for fifteen years, ever since that fateful day he'd found out.

Jareth was tired, frustrated and more than a little shaken that he could have dreamt of such an erotic coupling with a child he didn't even know! He lay back down, kicked the covers off, and decided to do something about all of it for once and for all.


	3. Fly Away With Me

﻿ 

"Sarah, we need to call the florist tomorrow about changing the roses," Karen called, setting the table and trying to cook at the same time, "If we leave it till later you'll be stuck with the others."

Sarah rolled her eyes and agreed loudly, sharing a smile with her father. Harold decided he liked having weddings in the families. And Benjamin, Sarah's fiancé, was a good man, someone who would do the best for his little girl. Then he noticed Sarah looking worriedly at the corner behind him. He turned to look too.

Toby was sitting slouched in his seat, completely unaware of the general happenings around. He was far too antsy to care about Sarah's roses. She could have ordered nettles for her wedding for all he cared. And he didn't! There were more important things to think about than roses, other things that made him feel guilty.

"Toby, you okay?" Oh crap, speak of the devil!

"Yeah... yeah, I'm fine. Just tired."

Sarah nodded. "You look it. What's wrong? Didn't you sleep last night?"

Toby stiffened at the very mention of his 'last night'. But he rolled his blue eyes and snorted, "No, mother, I did not. I had a weird dream about some stupid stuff and I couldn't sleep after that. And no, I don't want to talk about it."

Sarah recognized his need to be left alone. Toby wasn't usually a private person, but when it came to certain things he wouldn't open his mouth even on pain of death. Besides, she was in love! And getting married no less. She had no time for sadness.

Toby watched his sister fall into the chair next to her father and keep discussing the details of the organization. Something was wrong; he could feel it. There was something in the air that didn't bode well for him. Something itched in his mind, as it had done fairly regularly at various points in his life. He was determined to beat whatever it turned out to be this time.

"Toby? Toby, could you get the door? I need to take a call!"

He rolled his blue eyes and stood up, stretching his back to ease the kinks out from slouching too long. God, he'd be glad when this was done! He had enough of a messed-up life without having to dodge being an usher at the church. He wandered to the door just as another knock rang out. He frowned slightly. It didn't sound like Ben; the man never tapped in that frigidly polite way. He opened the door. And got the shock of his life.

A pair of mismatched eyes glinted down at him, a thin face with sculpted features met his wide eyes, the thin lips twitching as if at a private joke as the being took him in. And he was A Being!

"Who the...?"

"Am I permitted to enter?"

"Toby, who is... Crap!"

Sarah stopped short and stared, holding the banisters in her shock at the sight of someone she never thought to see again. Her eyes never leaving Jareth's face, she reached forward and grabbed Toby's arm, hauling him back towards her and away from the Goblin King.

Jareth sighed. It seemed politeness was a thing of the past in the Aboveground. He stepped in and stripped off his gloves, holding them in one hand as he looked around the hallway from his first ignominious defeat. He remembered transforming here, flying out with a bitter taste in his mouth. His lips quirked; this time was different.

"Sarah, bring the poor boy in," Karen called gaily; "There'll be plenty of time to... oh! I, uh, I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else."

"Quite alright," Jareth ceded, "I'm afraid my arrival was forced to be unannounced." He looked to Sarah. "Had it been known, it might have been prevented."

Karen blinked, looking uncertainly from this unusual looking man in her hallway to her frozen children. "Harold," she called, stepping back, "Harold, we have a visitor."

"Who is it?"

Jareth was getting tired of this. He wanted to get Toby and leave. He didn't relish being gawked at like an exhibit in a zoo in the process. His eyes lit on Toby's face with a fair amount of appreciation. He paced in front of the boy, looking him up and down with approval.

The front certainly looked promising. A small youth by any stretch of the imagination, no more than six inches over five feet. Slim with it, evidently. Jareth imagined he could span the tiny waist with his two hands without a problem. Delicate wrists protruded from the rolled back cuffs. His clothes were hideous, hanging sloppily over his frame, but then something could be done with that. Perhaps he really would take the youngster after all, not just keep him like a pet on a leash in his Castle.

Moving with all the unpredictability Sarah remembered, the fae suddenly leaned forward and pulled Toby into the centre of the enclosure. Lightly tapping his gloves against his thigh, Jareth circled Toby, eyes glowing.

Toby, snapped out of his astonishment by such an attack on his person, folded his arms and turned pointedly. "I'm not a piece a meat in a butcher's shop so- whoever the hell you are- stop looking at me like that!"

"Toby!" Karen rebuked half-heartedly, "Excuse me, what do you want with my son?"

Jareth had been rather intrigued by Toby's controlled outburst. So the brother was as feisty as the sister? He didn't mind fire; it warmed his sheets better than a lifeless mannequin. He'd secretly been a little afraid of that for a moment. "Perhaps we may sit? This will be a fairly involved tale," he murmured, waving Karen and Harold to their living room and walking in after them, "Sarah, if you must stare, close your mouth."

Sarah recovered her powers of speech and spent the next ten minutes berating and upbraiding this blast from her past, damning him as Satan incarnate and promising that she would shove his bloody crystals up the part of his anatomy where the sun didn't shine before she let him lay a hand on her family. Being dubbed a kidnapper and tyrant and seducer and generally a threat to rival the atomic bomb, Jareth waited for the tirade to die before ignoring it all together.

"Allow me to introduce myself," Jareth continued blandly, "I am Jareth, King of the Goblins." He met disbelieving looks and instantly conjured crystals from thin air, floating one to each of the adults there present. "These might convince you. They contain a wish. You may ask for any material thing and that crystal in your hand will grant it."

Karen looked down at her little glass globe, the surface slippery as a soap bubble under her fingertips and tried to think of something wildly improbable. She wished and the crystal disappeared. A gasp from her family and a pink baby elephant stood in her living room. Her jaw dropped.

Jareth shook his head at such a waste of a wish, but then mortals had always needed the wildly implausible to happen to believe in magic. Harold had done better, having wished for a diamond necklace Sarah had been sighing over in a magazine. He was currently holding it in his right hand and blinking at it.

"Jareth?" Sarah. "What do you want? We've none of us wished anyone away."

"No, Sarah, you haven't," Jareth agreed, "I do, however, need to take your brother... again."

Dead silence. Toby spoke up- "What? Look, I don't like being kidnapped, so let's skip to the part where you go away defeated, shall we? There's the door; use it!"

Jareth raised his eyebrows and prowled closer. The boy was nervous, shifting from foot to foot, his jaw too tight and his fingers alternating between fisting and pushing his hair back. There was a party trick with nervousness that Jareth knew of, a special trick. Reserved only for this special little mortal. His hand shot out and Toby flinched in expectation of the blow. The blow never landed. Instead, soft fingertips traced four parallel lines down his cheek. Almost unconsciously Toby closed his eyes and relaxed as a wave of soothing floated through his veins.

Then the connection broke as Sarah tore the hand away. "What are you doing to him?" she hissed, "Was that some kind of spell?"

Jareth put up his empty hands in mock surrender. "I have done nothing. But that is the reason I need Toby. I'm afraid we're bonded."

Again, a rather large silence filled the room. Harold's mouth unstuck. "Bonded? I'm not sure I follow you."

"When Toby was a child, Sarah wished him away," Jareth explained, "She ran my Labyrinth to win him back and, assisted by great good luck, defeated me. Toby returned back home. However, something happened while he was with me. We formed a bond, a connection of spirits if you will. It happens only once in a lifetime and lasts for an eternity. We are even now linked to each other."

Karen turned to Toby. "You're linked to someone?"

Toby shrugged in equal scepticism. "I don't know anything about bonds; honest! I don't even remember being kidnapped. And I don't think I would have bonded myself to some dude who tried to harm me anyway."

Jareth did not like his reputation being slandered. "For the last time, I did not kidnap anyone! You were wished away. And I am surprised at you. In all the thirteen hours you spent at my Castle, I offered you no harm whatsoever. You were a defenceless babe and you were fed and cared for as best as I could provide." Toby snorted sarcastically. "Which is when the bond must have been forged," the fae continued, "I'm afraid you must now accompany me. Say your goodbyes and let us leave. My powers are not as great in this world; I would return to mine."

"But... but... why goodbye? Sarah's getting married and Toby didn't mean to bond with anyone! Surely if you need my son to put this mess right, at least tell us when he will be back?" Karen put her arms around her son as if to physically prevent him being taken.

"Marriage? Sarah, Sarah, Sarah... you have grown up," Jareth smirked, remembering the fifteen year old he had once proposed to on a crazy notion, "Congratulations, my dear."

"I'm not your dear," Sarah retorted, "I'm not your anything. And neither is my brother. You heard him- he doesn't remember forming your bond and he was only a baby when it happened. You can't just take him away like that. We're his family!"

In answer, the Goblin King closed his eyes briefly in annoyance before turning to question his bond mate. "Answer me a few questions, Toby- do you get feelings of loss or incompletion that seem inexplicable? A feeling that nothing or no one can ease?"

"No..." Mismatched eyes glared a warning. "Okay, yes. What of it?"

"Were you soothed by my touch just moments ago?"

Toby went red, but nodded. "It was probably nothing," he muttered.

"Hmmm! Do you," Jareth stepped closer, "get dreams, sometimes sexual and sometimes not, in which a particular male- who you cannot truly see- is always present?" He held his arms out to the side. "And who exactly do I remind you of?"

Toby blanched and backed up a step. "How- how do you... have you been looking at my dreams or something?"

Jareth shook his head, oddly understanding. "I have no power over you. The bond should have allowed me to feel your emotions, or your presence. But you were only a child when it was forged, and wrested from my side soon after. It could not be specific at that age. Yet my dreams are quite similar. I did not recognize you in them, but your eyes and your hair are unmistakable. I would realize you now if I were to glimpse you across a crowded ballroom."

"Wait just one minute!" Harold yelled, getting to his feet and striding to face Jareth, "You said these dreams are sexual. You aren't accusing him of being gay, are you?"

"Gay?" Jareth looked genuinely confused.

"Dad, I am not gay," Toby protested, knowing exactly what was going to happen and desperate to prevent it at any cost, "You know that! I don't know like other guys; I never have! Come on, you trust me on this, don't you?"

"Toby, don't lie to me. Have you had perverted dreams of this poof?"

Jareth kept still. The threat was evident in the older man's voice, but he hadn't offered harm yet. Toby was capable of handling his father, surely. Jareth would not step forward to protect his interests unless it was necessary.

"Yes..." The answer was so soft, but Karen and Sarah gasped as if the revelation was something momentously life-altering.

The blow to Toby's face took everyone by surprise, but the next instant Jareth thrust Toby behind him and stared his cold disapproval at Harold's livid face.

"Take him and go," Toby's father snapped, "We don't want him here. Go on! Get him out of here!"

Toby was blank-faced and other than a nod to his mother and sister, he looked challengingly at Jareth's enquiring face. Shrugging and deciding that questions could wait, Jareth put a hand on the boy's stiff shoulder and took the both of them away.


	4. Property

﻿ 

Toby barely noticed the stone-walled room he was in, or the noisy throngs of creatures around him. All he knew was that his eyes were tightly fixed on Jareth's face, hating the half-goblin for what had just happened, for the stinging slap he kept replaying in his mind.

Eyes of two different colours glanced at him before the Goblin King turned to holler for peace. The goblins cringed back and retreated to the walls. Jareth slowly sat down in his throne and regarded the boy now standing alone before him. Sunlight filtered through the open windows, striking flecks of gold through his blond hair. Sky blue eyes glared malevolently at him and, for just an instant, Jareth felt a whisper of concern slide down his spine. "What shall I do with you?" he settled on, smiling slightly to cover his discomfort.

Toby's anger deepened if that were possible. "Whatever you like. I'm now your property, my Lord," he sneered, folding his arms.

Jareth's dark brows steepled in surprise. "My Lord?" he questioned dubiously, "We are bonded. We are lovers in the spirit and might perhaps be something more. Such formality is not for us."

A general gasp at the news from the goblins along with a few giggles and leers.

Toby flushed and hunched slightly in shame. "I'm not your damn lover!" he snapped, "And I never will be, so get that through your thick head!" Outright laughter greeted the insult.

Jareth went paler than he was, but felt the beginning of molten fury sift through his veins. "Quiet!" he snarled, a hand outstretched. The goblins stopped instantly. Jumping lightly from his seat, he decided instantly that he would make this unruly bond mate submit... one way or another.

Toby stood still, the angered angel in a dinghy room filled with creatures steadfastly of the earth. And circling him- neither angel nor earthy creature- a being more divine and more murky than either of those groups. The mortal told himself to stay still, told himself not to betray his apprehension. But he couldn't suppress a gasp as his arm was caught in a vice-like grip, so painful his knees buckled and his eyes watered.

"Do not defy me," the Goblin King warned, tightening his fingers just that pinch more. He saw hatred intensify with the fear. "If I were you, I would remember the feeling of my fingers on your flesh. It will happen again and I can indeed be cruel, child." Toby wrenched his arm away once the pressure dropped and clapped his other hand to the bruises. But Jareth's hands were now on his waist, pulling him closer. "And if you are, as you say, my property," he purred.

Toby's eyes widened a split second before he forced himself out of the half-goblin's powerful hold. Falling to the floor, he scrabbled backwards, only to find a thick wall of goblins blocking his way.

Trapped! He was trapped with a prowling predator in front of him and a blockade of minions behind him. Toby got to his feet and clenched his fists, his head hammering and his senses still disoriented from the past hour. Jareth grabbed his wrist easily and spun him, forcing the trapped arm up against the smooth back. The goblins cheered, even though their King didn't notice them, tuning them out in his characteristic indifference to their presence as he concentrated on establishing his power once and for all.

Toby's mouth was gasping in shallow gulps of air against the pain. It felt like his shoulder was being ripped off; the grip was far too tight. He felt the hold jerk suddenly and bit the inside of his lip against the pain.

"Does it hurt?" a soft voice whispered in his ear, "You know how to make it stop?"

Toby shook his head in answer. He didn't know this Goblin King. How was he supposed to know what to do? And he was damned well not going to apologize in public. He wouldn't! He had the feeling that this was beyond apology in any case. The grip was only getting tighter and he couldn't think straight. The fear and the panic and the reckless anger made him want to just shut the rest of the world out. Never mind. It didn't matter. If he concentrated, he could tell himself he was only dreaming. That it wasn't happening. It was just another Dream.

Jareth felt Toby tense against him and he pushed the arm just a little higher up the thin back. He couldn't do this much longer. Toby's arm wouldn't stand the strain and Jareth preferred to conquer this without actual pain or harm. "Let your instincts guide your actions. What am I asking to release you?"

The voice was so close to his ear, that raw silk voice, and the spell broken instantly. The pain was worse than before and he clenched his jaw to keep from asking for it to stop. But in spite of that he would do anything! Say anything to stop this! Toby shut his eyes, ignoring the knives of pain gliding into his flesh and concentrated- Jareth was a complete bastard... no, that wasn't helpful in this situation. Jareth was proud... that was it! Toby had offended his pride by denying him. So now what? A small thought, as slight and slender as a ray of sunlight filtered discreetly through his blood. A notion of something inside him knowing what he was being asked for... sighing inwardly in defeat, Toby pressed firmly down on his anger and relaxed backwards.

The hold miraculously lightened. A hand stroked his abused shoulder soothingly, as a master would pat a spirited horse. "Good," Jareth chuckled, "You see what I mean? Look more to break my grip."

Toby didn't like this game. He was directly facing the crowd of goblins and the avid interest in what should have been private was sickening. This was all just another Dream, he reasoned. He didn't have to fear because he'd soon wake up. So he could afford to shut his eyes and go back to that sunbeam in his head.

Jareth waited, Toby's hair was soft against his face. And the smell! If he could bury himself in a smell, it would have to be Toby's hair- fine silken hair like a heavy tapestry. And the body he was holding slumped backwards into him, still tense, but allowing itself to be held in defeated submission- triumph. Jareth let go and helped Toby to steady himself, carelessly rubbing life back into the wounded shoulder with his gloved hand.

Blue eyes wouldn't look at him, choosing to stare at the uneven patterns of the floor. A goblin spat at Toby's ankle and the boy still wouldn't raise his head.

Jareth reacted instinctively. He hauled the wriggling creature out and tossed him to the ground. "Apologize," he ordered, the riding crop suddenly in hand.

The goblin whimpered and cowered. Toby wouldn't respond.

"Now!" The blow landed.

"I's sorry," the pitiful being whined, licking his lips.

Toby looked up, but not to the goblin, to Jareth. The entire hall quietened. Large sky blue eyes shone tears, echoing a sad lament of misery in any who saw them. The goblins whispered and nudged each other, stopping the games and jeers in sorrow. Boisterous they might be, but they had hearts of gold and a love for beautiful things. Jareth was merely entranced.

"You cry so easily?" he asked, "Away with you, goblins, and leave me with my bond mate." The goblins looked confused. "Oh, just get out, the lot of you!"

Toby barely heard the noisy clatter of people leaving. He didn't even notice that he was alone with a half-goblin who had expressed an interest in something he'd never thought to give any man. No, he wanted to go home! He wanted to be able to talk with his father. He wanted to tease and be teased by Sarah. He even wanted his mother to give him one of her harried kisses on his forehead, though he wouldn't admit to it. And now he never could.

"Come here, child," Jareth ordered. Toby hesitantly stepped forward, a dull suspicion on his face. "So timid," the half-goblin crowed, more for the challenge it represented than anything else, "So untrusting of anything not your own kind. Quite elvish, in fact."

"Elvish? Like elves?" Toby noted his voice was echoing in the now empty chambers. It felt the stones themselves were laughing at him.

"Have you mortals not heard of them? Slight, slim beings, they are, with a propensity for great pride and great fun. Also for excessive shyness," the Goblin King added smugly, "The description suits you, now I think of it."

"I'm not an elf," Toby snapped bracingly, shivering as a cold wind blew through the narrow windows, "And if you'll excuse me, I'm not in the mood for fun. Either your kind or mine!"

"So be it. But you are greatly indignant of your person. And you are shy."

"I just don't like creeps touching me, which is exactly what you did. And for your information, I am not shy! Just because I didn't fall into your arms and beg, 'take me, take me', doesn't mean zilch."

Jareth was quite enjoying this conversation. It was so refreshingly juvenile. And the boy was going red about the ears at the very thought of sex. "You might yet," he replied cryptically, "Your life is young and I am immortal."

"Well, you'll need it! Because that's how long you'll have to wait for me to turn gay."

"Gay?" That word again. It was familiar but Jareth couldn't quite grasp it in his mind. He frowned once more as he propped himself against a wall. An absent hand straightened a few disarrayed locks. "What does that mean, precisely- gay?"

"Oh. Um..." Toby tried to think of a way to say it, "Gay is slang for homosexual. It's more common and a hell of a lot shorter."

Jareth sighed and shook his head, his unruly hair wisping around his face. "Mortals," he mourned, "Why search for a half-witted attempt at coyness when 'homosexual' does as well? I'll never understand it. And your father does not approve?"

"Did you think that slap was a blessing?" Toby asked, turning again with his hands shoved in his pockets. Seeing as how his jeans were already far too loose, Jareth placed a little bet with himself on whether or not the added stress would drop them.

But that was neither here nor there. "You need to sleep," he said, jumping to the topic as if it were the most natural one in the world, "Follow me."

Toby was suspicious. He really wasn't in the mood to go trotting through the Castle only to land up in the Goblin King's personal bedroom. Surely Jareth wouldn't do that? He'd all but admitted to never having experienced another man before. So the half-goblin wouldn't expect him to adjust so soon?

He needn't have bothered. Jareth was not generally of the type to like unwilling partners. Seducing the inexperienced was fine; that was sport. But he would appreciate getting a reaction that didn't bore him with dull acceptance. He said as much, lowering the harshness of his commands to a softer tone- "I do not expect you to sleep in my bed on any night but the one when you are willing. No, do not tell me that that is never because never is a long time. I did not want this bond either. I knew of its existence only six months after you were gone, but kept away, hoping its very vagueness would enable me to forget it. Unfortunately a bond mate is never easy to forget."

Toby remembered Sarah once saying that Jareth had watched her run the Labyrinth in his crystal. He shivered at the distasteful thought of being spied on. "If you knew, how come you never told me earlier? Did you spy on me after you found out?"

"I am not a sexual predator," Jareth snapped, whirling on his guest with a snarl, "I do not spy on people and as I said, I tried to live without. Oh, don't look so flattered. You might not feel the same, but to the immortal, a bond mate is a serious thing. Unlike your mortal divorces, one cannot get rid of a bond mate without a great deal of trouble." He was getting rapidly more frustrated because he knew what bonds should be like and his was none of it! After all that work and study and careful planning, it had fallen to this! Toby was retreating with every threatening step he took, eyes wide in panic and that just made things worse. "A bond mate is someone who exists beyond love, exists beyond want... exists beyond the very fabric of life and death itself. I may live without you, but I can only be happy when your presence is near because that bloody bond does not appreciate being stretched between two different worlds!"

The last shout died out in the echoing stone corridor. Toby found himself two feet from the wall, blinking because they were inside the Castle and no lights had yet been lit against the shadows. It was a little flattering to hear someone say they couldn't live without him, but frankly, he didn't think he'd be getting tied down to anyone after just turning sixteen!

"I, uh, didn't know," he muttered.

"There is a lot you never will," Jareth retorted contemptuously, "Now follow quicker. I'm getting a headache dealing with you."

The walk was silent after that. Toby needed to keep close to keep his swift- footed guide in sight. There didn't seem to be any ornamentation to the Castle at all, leaving it cold and bare to his fascinated eyes. The stones were rough and worn with age, but still strong. Here and there a deep gash marked their smooth surfaces. Toby could only hope that those gashes weren't claw marks.

"In here."

Jareth stopped so abruptly that Toby almost walked right into him.

The door they walked through was a light wooden structure. Toby was glad to see that it had a lock on the inside, the old fashioned key lifting his spirits before any other furnishings had the chance.

It was simple enough, not overdecorated with frills and furbelows. But the dark wood furnishings had a grace and elegance in their austerity and the light that flooded the room was bright enough to blind. The cloth used was rich, however, being velvet or quilted silk. And the rug by the bed was fur! Toby was glad he wasn't an avid animal rights activists or he'd have screamed on the spot.

"I suggest you make this room to your liking," Jareth commented, looking around with a disinterested eye, "You'll be spending a lot of time here. You may come and go as you please; this is no prison. You cannot go back to the Aboveground in any case. I advice you not to lose yourself in my Labyrinth; it does not take kindly to mortal strangers and I might be too busy to save you. Clothes will be provided for you. Meals will be brought up here should you wish it, or you may partake of them in the dining hall. I am rarely there. The servants should be able to provide for anything else you desire."

"Wait!"

Jareth turned and raised a cold eyebrow. He was more furious with the situation he was in than he was still angry with Toby. He had been prepared, after all, for a tumultuous beginning. He was upset that he had lost his temper so easily.

Toby looked around and opened his mouth, only to shut it again. Everything sounded fine, as far as the bare minimum went, but for the rest of his life? "What am I supposed to do here?" he asked awkwardly, "I mean, what? Is there a library I can look through? Are there people I can meet? Even if you don't keep me locked in a room, I'm going to go mad if I have to sit on my ass the whole day with nothing to do."

Jareth sighed- such inelegance! "My library is open to anyone who wants to read. Just summon a goblin and they will show you. As for people... I'm afraid you'll have to find someone on your own. There are no people in the Castle except myself and my goblins." It was pure hurt pride and stubbornness that made his end, "I think you will soon see how resisting me is not a wise decision."

Toby stared as the door closed behind his bond mate with a soft click. Resisting him? Not a wise decision? What the hell was that all about? Did the Goblin King really expect him to let him have his way just so he could talk to someone? Toby flounced away and flung himself into the window seat. Realizing the window was open and not precisely made to prevent falls, he made a mental note not to do that again. But at least it gave him an escape. The way he was feeling right then, he'd take a dive through the window versus Jareth any day!


	5. The Feast

﻿ 

Three days passed like water, trickling away in the peculiar movement of time that the Underground possessed.

Toby was left unattended for the most part, allowed to wander where he willed, when he willed. The goblin servants were often enough running from one room to another with seemingly no particular idea of what any of them were doing- at one point he saw one of them exit a room in the West Wing carrying a rake! But for all that, they were friendly enough creatures and willing to bend over backwards to help the King's bond mate.

Jareth was not to be seen for those three days. Toby was convinced that there had been a presence that had entered his room one night, but by the time he had thrown on a shirt and challenged it, it had disappeared. But it had frightened him enough to keep the bed drapes drawn around him when he slept from then on. The feeling of being watched kept reoccurring, and it kept him so tense that he relaxed by making sure he left the room every day. Even if he was only wandering the castle, it still felt safer than being alone in his room.

At the end of three days, a goblin entered his room with a suit of clothes thrown over his arm. Toby knew enough about the goblins by this point to know that aloof look and to know that certain types of goblins were not as simple-minded as most of the others. "You are invited to a feast tonight," the little thing said, bowing low, "The King sent me to help you prepare yourself."

"A feast?" Toby asked dubiously, "What kind of feast?"

"The usual kind," the goblin explained cryptically, "Here! These are your clothes."

Toby suppressed a very indignant groan as he took in the delicate tan coat and breeches. If they were anything like Jareth's clothing, he already felt embarrassed without even putting them on. But he was not allowed to say a word as the goblin was already hurrying him to the bathroom and tugging at his clothes. Almost as an afterthought, a shirt was handed in as well.

"Come along then! Can't keep the King waiting! He gets angry, he does, if you keep him waiting," the goblin rambled, "and then poof! Suddenly you find you've been thrown into the Bog of Eternal Stench before you can blink. Very convenient, the Bog; His Majesty hates killing anyone so it's the best place to get rid of someone he doesn't like, isn't it? Now then, off with those clothes and into the bath. If you need anything at all, don't hesitate to call, My Lord."

My Lord? Toby rolled his eyes but complied with the demands, blocking out the sound of the goblin's rambling monologue as it drifted in from the bedroom. For a while he luxuriated in the warmth, his fingers absently entwining and unclasping beneath the water as if restlessly seeking something. The goblins had taken to calling him 'Lord', for no reason that he could discern. He'd tried to correct them but it just hadn't worked. And for now, that feeling of being watched had intensified.

It was a good hour later when he was led to the large hall. And at first he was hesitant to enter, feeling ridiculous in the highly stylized get-up he was in. Even his hair felt different, having been tied back from his face with a black ribbon, the overlong strands intermingling with his hair. But then natural good sense came back to mind and the boy banished all thoughts of a certain Goblin King from his mind with a grimace. Lifting his chin in characteristic determination, he pushed open the door and walked in.

What he saw seemed like something out of a fairytale!

"Why am I here?" he asked distrustfully, walking very slowly to where Jareth sat in the Great Hall.

At the sight of him, the entire throng of goblins began to bang on the table and cheer. Ale and beer slopped to the scarred, scratched tabletop, wetting hands and fizzing onto grubby clothes.

By contrast the Goblin Kind sat still and languid in his enormous chair. The back was carved into the shape of a Griffith's head, the heavy-browed eyes glaring down majestically as the vicious-looking beak hung over Jareth's head protectively. Jareth's eyes glowed in the candlelight with a furious light, as if the wisdom of the worlds had congregated in their depths, overflowing to touch the contours of the thinly smiling lips that were as pale as his skin. The moon-blond strands of his hair floated down over his heavy black velvet tunic.

Toby quickly tore his eyes away from the bared 'v' of the half-goblin's chest and glared at his audience instead. Had he looked back to his host as he took his seat at Jareth's right hand, he might have noticed a rather humorous smirk grace the sharp features. But Jareth was clever enough to make certain his prey was not startled right at the start of the hunt.

"I thought a celebration was in order," the Goblin King explained, innocently leaning towards his guest of honour, "After all, it isn't everyday that the King's bond mate arrives in the Castle." Toby leaned away uncomfortably. Jareth didn't seem to notice; instead standing gracefully and picking up his twisted silver goblet. "To our guest," he said out loud, "May he find happiness within my walls."

The goblins cheered again and downed their drinks. Then they proceeded to ignore the two at the head of the table as the doors were flung open and trays and trolleys of food were brought in. Roasts were carried in, still smoking and steaming from the spits. Breads of all types piled large wooden patters carved in the shape of strange animals. Strange and varied vegetation of both the cooked and uncooked variety were laid amongst the meats, accompanied by fruits and cheeses and yet more sauces and dips of all kinds. As it was, the goblins were only too happy to grab at whatever took their fancy.

Jareth didn't look twice as food was thrown across the table and at heads, only pausing to fill his goblet and Toby's from an old dusty bottle at his elbow. "Have a drink," he advised.

"I don't drink."

A dark eyebrow rose a fraction of a disbelieving inch. Whether the disbelief was intended to Toby's indifference to alcohol, or displayed Jareth's dislike for having a rare politeness refused, was entirely at the mortal's discretion.

Toby sighed and sipped. The crystal-clear liquid was cool, sweet to his tongue and slightly spiced. It surprised him, actually; in general he wasn't fond of wines. But this rich nectar was remarkably satisfying.

Jareth chuckled quietly to himself as the heady brew quickly took over the boy's mind. So his bond mate claimed to be unwilling, did he? Well, the Goblin King was not planning to let all that untouched loveliness go to waste without tasting it first. Burning blue eyes rose, meeting his with something like wonder as the drugging haze ripped apart barriers and inhibitions. Yet defiance and uncertainty still lurked. But there was time, Jareth decided, there was time to play his hand with patience and self-possession.

"Don't!"

Jareth started in surprise and sat back, tilting his head in innocent enquiry.

"Oh no, you don't," Toby slurred, "Don't look so bloody innocent! I know zigactly what you're thinking!"

"Zigactly?" Jareth echoed blankly. A few nearby goblins overheard the exchange and burst out laughing. Toby flushed and buried his nose in his refilled goblet. Jareth sighed and felt something oddly akin to pity move in his veins. It was either pity, or it was empathy. He didn't quite like either emotion. They had no place within him. "Here. Eat something. I should have warned you of the potency of my wines."

And so the time passed, with the hunter battling a curious indecision about the chase, and the prey becoming more and more appealing as more of his walls dissolved in wine and good humour.

By the time the clock struck two hours past the thirteenth, the feast had ended. The squawks and good cheer of the goblins had descended to hushed murmurs of contentment. Some of the creatures had passed out beneath the long table and others lay slumped in their seats or on the floor.

Jareth was lounged sideways in his seat; a long leg flung over one carved arm. The chair seemed to have a mind of its own because it had raised the claw on its other arm to possessively cradle his head. His eyes were half- closed and glittered in the light of the guttering candles. He himself was pleasantly under the influence, having drunk just enough to take the edge of that curious indecision.

Toby was somewhere in between reality and dreams, lost in the fantastical world he seemed to have been sucked into since he had opened the door that fateful night. His hair had long ago escaped confinement from his ribbon and the room had grown progressively hot enough that he had discarded his coat with a huff.

Music had been playing softly for quite a while and the boy tried to remember when exactly he had first noticed it. He eventually decided it was sometime after the chicken races down one side of the enormous room but before the miniature fireworks set off in the high ceiling. Which left most of the evening, unfortunately.

Suddenly it didn't seem to matter when the music had begun because now someone was singing, someone with a raw silk voice and a mouthful of dreams. Someone... Toby raised his head in shock as Jareth's mellow eyes found his.

_'With your long blond hair and your eyes of blue... The only thing I ever got from you... Was sorrow...'  
_  
The goblins echoed sleepily from their positions across the hall.

Toby stared in horrified fascination as the warm notes caressed his ear. For one truly frightening moment he thought the Goblin King was singing to him. But then the mismatched eyed slid away, the words no longer even pretending to have anything to do with him.

_'You acted funny trying to spend my money... You're out there playing your high class games... Of sorrow...'  
_  
Blue eyes closed. No, the song wasn't for him. They failed to see the soft smirk on the singer's face, or the way Jareth hungrily devoured the delicacy of his face with his eyes.

_'With your long blond hair... I couldn't sleep last night... With your long blond hair...'_

A soft whimper ripped from Toby's throat as slim fingers tangled themselves in his hair, caressing the curve of his skull through the silken strands. Impatient fingers they were, that plundered and plunged with knowing ruthlessness.

The music played on but the singer had no more words to utter. At least, none that pertained to the song- "Open your eyes," the half-goblin whispered, perched on the edge of the table and tilting Toby's face up towards him.

The mortal shook his head not knowing how the gold of his hair threw sparks across the room. Like the sun, Jareth thought heatedly. Feeling an uncontrollable urge to burn in such heated beauty, the Goblin King let himself dispense with patience for the moment. He swooped hard to the trembling lips, attacking with brutal kisses until the wide mouth gasped and obediently opened to him with a pleading sound.

Toby's fingers clenched into his thighs, the nails biting into flesh through the barrier of his clothes. Still lost in the haze of a waking dream he could delude himself into believing that this wasn't happening. It just another of those Dreams, as so many other instances in this fairytale world had seemed. He wasn't really kissing Jareth, was he? It only felt like a satin-covered mouth was on his, or like a serpentine tongue was twined around his own. And certainly those long-fingered hands were not tangled in his hair or cupping his face, angling his head to the exactly position to commandeer a harsher kiss than before...

_'With your long blond hair... I couldn't sleep last night... With your long blond hair...'_

Blue eyes shot open as Toby pushed himself out of Jareth's grasp with a startled cry. He didn't see the few goblin heads that rose to see what had happened, and stayed up to watch this most entertaining of scenes. No, all he knew was that the freshwater sweetness had resolved itself to the taste of Jareth's mouth and that Jareth's eyes chased the burning glow sweeping over his face. Even the unnaturally white skin seemed to shine with a moon-like pallor, making his dark clothes seem all the darker.

"No," the boy insisted, scrambling to his feet and backing unsteadily away, "I- I don't... I never wanted that! You fucking liar! You knew that; and you made me. I never wanted it, but you made me!"

Jareth couldn't keep a small smile from his face as he followed step for step. The light from the candles seemed to cloak his bond mate, giving the golden glow of daylight in the dim hall. "Have I, now," the Goblin King remarked, "How have I made you, Toby? Tell me; how have I forced you to kiss me?"

"You got me drunk..."

"I offered you a drink. As your host I cannot control the amounts you consumed."

"You made me..."

"How, Toby?"

"I don't know!" The wine still sung sweetly in his blood, blanketing his senses and making his body feel like pliant lead. He didn't want this- "I don't know, okay? You could have drugged me, or put a spell on me or something. I don't know!"

Jareth stepped even closer, feeling the thrilling surge of triumph as Toby's back hit the wall and pressed further against it. He was so close now. Blue eyes stared up at him with panic and he waited in anticipation for that last little touch... a desperate fist swung and connected with the half-goblin's jaw, snapping his head to the side. The connecting thread of heat had strung tighter and ever tighter and exploded with that one blow. In an instant, strong fingers gripped the delicate wrists and slammed them up above the golden head. A long, black-draped body pressed Toby further into the unyielding stone at his back as a knee slid between his legs.

Toby stiffened then, closing his eyes in despair and distancing himself from all of this. It wasn't happening; it was just physical anyhow. If this really was just another Dream- and so much of its sudden sway from gentle to dangerous seemed to label it as such- then he only needed to shut his eyes and wait to wake up. That was all. He didn't need to really take this seriously. No matter what happened, it was only a dream and the Goblin King would take what he wanted and then leave him be. Nothing could hurt him if Jareth could only touch his body in a dream.

The half-goblin drew back with a quick frown. He could feel the child retreat from him, mentally flinging up barriers locking his consciousness away as his body slumped obediently into Jareth's arms in a lesson learned from that very first day. And unfortunately, it was as erotically uninviting as the prospect of taking a block of rubber. Besides, the half-goblin was rather aware that Toby was a little young to be used in such a way. No, surrender was meant to be shared, not hopelessly allowed.

He let go with a growl as desire died a reluctant death for the night.

Toby relaxed thankfully as the loss of contact brought his mind back down to his body. But the sudden rush of consciousness was too much and he gasped as his knees turned to water and he pitched to the floor, bright blue spots dancing in his line of vision.

Jareth found himself with another armful of mortal youth and spent a good ten seconds cursing fluently in the Old Language to make his point of view clear.

"No! Let go of me. I don't..."

"Shut up, Toby, before I lose my temper," Jareth snapped. Sighing, the half-goblin shot a discontented glare at the snoring goblins behind him and hefted his burden up into his arms properly. Toby was small, but he was heavy. The Goblin King had to boost his strength with magic. Not a difficult task, however, and boot heels clicked a languid staccato as he left the room, taking care to hold the small body close enough to offer body heat against the cold night.

It took one entire minute for Toby's sluggish mind to register what was happening. But the sensation of being carried was not an easy one to miss. Colouring, he struggled a little. "Jareth, put me down!"

The protest went unanswered and was, in fact, completely ignored all together. Toby subsided with a sniff and a mutter, not letting himself think that he had sounded half-hearted at best, and childishly woebegone at worst. No- he had protested, he had been refused and this was therefore not his fault. He rested better after that, his head leaning against an unforgiving shoulder where blond strands mingled with his own blond hair.

The silence and the twisting turns of the journey seemed to go on forever. One staircase looked very like another and one passageway echoed as all the ones before did. A combination of alcohol, exhaustion and comfort made Toby's eyes heavy, and when a deep voice began to croon a strangely compelling lullaby in the gruff language of the goblins, the mortal drifted into the grey mists of sleep, for once not bothered to notice whether he was being watched or not.

He was not aware when he was laid in his own bed and his boots removed by the King's own hands. Or when a pair of mismatched eyes watched the rising sun light the sleeping contours of his face and figure with a self- deprecating smile of thin lips. Or even the continuous flow of music that issued from a white throat without pause or break as Jareth brushed his fingers gently through the heavy silk of his hair.

Fire-blond... Jareth decided whimsically that his bond mate was a fire-blond. It was befitting a Child of the Sun that Toby should be so.

"Perfect in every way," Jareth mused, twining a gold lock around his fingers, "Youth, beauty and compatibility. So tell me, my elf, why do you fight it?"

Toby murmured something indistinguishable and shifted in his sleep before subsiding again.

"The wine should wear off soon," Jareth murmured, looking to the sun, "And you will wake up alone and still untried, my Toby. Such a pity. But maybe next time? Yes, next time, my elf, you will submit. And I will enjoy you. I won't wait forever; it will be soon or else."

Somewhere in Toby's dreams, he heard those fateful words from Jareth's lips. He felt the heat as warm fingers slipped over his fevered brow. Fire burned around him in a circle of cackling flames, driving him to insanity with enflaming passion. Then a soft kiss was laid chastely on his forehead, sweeter and more intimate than he had ever thought possible. The flames retreated and quieted as he was soothed.

The child sighed in his sleep as he lay alone and unwatched in his room.

How long he slept, Toby never knew. Time, for all its relentless progress, could sometimes be strangely subjective in the Underground. Dreams of the most insane rambling flitted through his brain, filled with people in a sea of colours. His father and mother, Sarah and Ben, his few friends from school- all stood to one side and watched him with sad eyes and told him that they couldn't help him. Behind him was darkness, beckoning and murmuring with invisible monsters. And over it all the dark shadow of a man loomed accusingly over him, pressing him further into that evil blackness. But it wasn't Jareth, because Jareth stood on the side of neither good nor evil but in-between, as he watched Toby's struggles with an impassive face.


	6. Histories and Gardens

﻿ 

Author's Note: This one and the next chapter are very long because of the amount of Underground lore that I needed to put. It will be relevant, so please bear with me and forgive me this once. They will get shorter and we're about to move to phase two of our story.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The morning was cold and clear. Toby, of course, felt it even worse. He'd woken up, alone and forlorn, and the only evidence he had to show for the events of the night before were a tongue that felt like a dry sponge and a head the size of the Sahara desert.

Finally levering himself out of bed, he spent the next hour in the bathroom, alternately dunking his head in a bath of cold water and sipping weakly from a glass of the same stuff. For the rest of the morning he resigned himself to pacing the room slowly, taking the courage to change into a clean shirt and jeans. He was just looked around for a place to put his discarded clothes when a goblin came scurrying in. Being used to it by then, Toby only nodded his thanks as the little servant whisked the bundle away and disappeared back out the door. A few minutes later, the same goblin came scurrying back, carrying food

"Excuse me, what's the time?" Toby asked.

The goblin pointed hesitantly to a large clock on the wall and disappeared when Toby turned to look at it. The thirteen hour clock seemed to think it was eleven o' clock in the morning. Seeing as how Toby's stomach decided food was absolute poison, he stepped as far away from the toast and jam as it was possible to go. Even the pitcher of orange juice seemed to glare at him with evil intention. Once the threat of complete inner-upheaval was stopped, Toby went back to his depressed meanderings.

And there could only be one reason why he was depressed and very, very angry- his gracious host who had managed to pour a bottle of wine down his throat before attempting to seduce him the night before.

So it would have been a matter of some suspicion to have heard the conversation that Jareth had in his room about his bond mate, and to see the half-goblin leave directly after through the Labyrinth with a smug look on his face. Hoggle, however, was completely unaware of the part he was to play, though less than happy to be interrupted in his work.

"Hoggle," Jareth called, strolling impatiently to the Labyrinth's gatekeeper.

Instantly the dwarf jumped a good few feet into the air and dropped his spray-can, whirling around with his heart pounding in his ears.

It irked his King no end that this most favoured of errand-runners feared him even after almost two thousand years in his employ. But as the Goblin King would also have frowned at any evidence of Hoggle developing a backbone, he ignored his own duplicity and agreed simply to be annoyed. "Hoggle, I have a job for you."

"Yes, Your Majesty?" Hoggle asked warily. He knew Jareth's jobs. Handing over tainted peaches to innocent girls was one of the easy ones.

"No doubt you have heard of my bond mate," Jareth answered calmly, leaning leisurely against the wall of his Labyrinth, fingers sifting negligently through a thorny scrub that climbed the stone beside him, "You will go to him this morning and you will engage his interest. Talk to him of the Labyrinth; tell him of everything a boy his age might naturally be interested in. In short, Hogwib-"

"Hoggle!"

"Yes- in short, Hogbrain, you will seek his friendship."

Watery blue eyes blinked in surprise, almost popping out of the large head they were set in as Hoggle digested that fact. "But you said I wasn't to have any friends," he reminded his King.

Jareth smiled as if bestowing a great honour. "In this case, you may forget that," he proclaimed magnanimously, "I want you to gain his confidence and you will do it. Or I will know the reason why." He made to leave, but an irritating bout of obvious throat-clearing occurred behind him and he turned with a sigh to find out what the objections would be.

"I won't do nothing to harm him, your Majesty," Hoggle warned, "I saids so before, and I's saying it again- I won't cause no one no harm!"

Jarteh laughed as if there was the most delicious irony attached to that defiance. As indeed there was, though he would not tell the dwarf so. "Hoggle, I think you will want to become this child's friend," he chuckled, "His sister would certainly appreciate your intervention."

"My what, now?"

"Your involvement," Jareth growled, his irritation showing in a heated flash, "Think you Sarah Williams will like knowing you refused to befriend her brother? Or do you really not know who sits in my Castle?"

"Sarah's here?" Hoggle almost fell over in shock.

"No, you stupid dwarf, her brother is! Toby and I share a bond, and I command you as your King and the possessor of your sorry little life to go to him now and gain his trust!"

The shower of glitter took Hoggle completely unaware, but he'd heard that note in Jareth's voice before. And it had spelled trouble for weeks after, so he hurriedly took to his heels through the Labyrinth. Normally, only Jareth himself could navigate the Labyrinth without a care, but Hoggle as the gatekeeper had been gifted with a token of the King's favour and so the Labyrinth let him pass unmolested, only teasing him with a few wrong turns or hidden pits when it was in a bad mood. But even without the crystal that he clutched tight in his hand Hoggle would have taken this path. For not only was Jareth mad enough to be spitting fire- literally, should the mood so seize him- but Toby Williams was in that Castle, the child he had helped save from becoming another property of the Goblin King. And he longed to talk to someone of the one friend he had ever had in his whole life, even if it was to the King's bond mate.

And as for Toby- to whom wandering around began to lose its charm, as did feeling angry and injured- he wondered soberly if he could call on Jareth to ask him for something to do. Of course, with the constant fluctuations he'd observed in the events of just one night, Toby wondered which persona he'd get. He was rather afraid it would be one of the less nice versions of the Goblin King than he could safely tolerate even though his head had decided to shrink back to the right size and stop pounding like a drum.

So he welcomed a tap at the door with a pleasure so acute he was ready to kiss whoever it was... unless it was Jareth, obviously. "Yeah?"

"Toby?" Hoggle put his head around the door. "I, er, I'm Hoggle. Don't think you knows me, but I, uh, used to know your sister when..."

Toby visibly deflated. "Hi, Hoggle. Come in."

Hoggle smiled hesitantly and trotted in, looking sourly around the room. "So, what're you doing inside on a pretty day like this?"

"I'm just wandering around. Don't want to get in anyone's way out there so I thought I'd stay in. Do some thinking."

"Oh. Well, I was just in the neighbourhood and I thought, you know, if you wasn't doing nothing, I could show you around." Hoggle looked like he wished he didn't have to say any of this. "You know, so you can look around and such."

"Okay. It'll be nice to actually see the Labyrinth," Toby sighed, "Come on, Hoggle. You lead, I'll follow."

The two walked out, right smack into a goblin who fell over and frowned. "You're going out? Where?"

"And what business is it of yours?" Hoggle huffed, "Toby ain't a prisoner, now, is he."

"King Jareth will want to know," the goblin reprimanded. He didn't even get to finish his speech, because Toby had swanned past with the muttered comment that Jareth could damn well go screw himself. The goblin shook his big head in shocked scandal, trotting off to faithfully relay the message.

Hoggle, though, found the sentiment to be admirable. Frightening, but admirable. "Cor! You sure told that nosy where to go."

"Yeah well," Toby growled, looking like the head thundercloud in a rainstorm, "Jareth has some nerve trying to keep me locked in my room! That wasn't the deal and I'll bet he knows it! He's just a spoilt brat with nothing else to do!"

Hoggle stayed silent. He was willing to do this for Sarah's sake, but Hoggle was getting the distinct feeling that Toby was unhinged. Nobody, but nobody, spoke to or of the Goblin King like that! It was just asking to be thrown into the Bog of Eternal Stench! Even Sarah hadn't written Jareth off as nothing but a spoilt brat.

"Have I offended you?" Toby asked with a worried frown.

"Huh? What?"

"You look like you're upset about something," Toby pointed out, "Was it something I said? Or did?"

"Nah! I was just thinking about what you said about Jareth."

Toby's jaw tightened. "The guy needs to get the crystal out of his ass and the chip off his shoulder!"

Hoggle looked around fearfully and decided it was a relief to see the castle door up ahead. "Come on. There's the door. We just pushes it open and... Here we are. Ah! Now isn't this better than some stuffy old room? All the lovely fresh air! Oh, don't touch the fairies!"

"I know. They bite. Sarah told me about them. She used to tell me a lot about this place when I was a child. And then it wasn't important any more, to her at least."

Hoggle flounced off to the right, beckoning Toby after him. "Can't say I blame her," the dwarf commented, "Nothing but bad memories for her here, what with that Jareth trying to stop her solving the Labyrinth."

Toby was more preoccupied with the scenery to really listen but caught the basic gist of the grumble. "Maybe you're right," he said absently, "Jareth can be a real jerk. Lovely garden, though."

Hoggle made some appropriate comment and left Toby in peace to look around. They were in a garden of sorts, and one filled with some rather unusual flowers. There were the usual roses and lavender and other bright, shiny, earth flowers. But then there were other kinds- flowers that glowed and glittered with speckles and spots and unearthly hues of silver. One bush even had bright orange flowers with tiger stripes.

"They looks okay, I guess," Hoggle commented, noting the smile of delight on Toby's face.

"Okay? Hoggle, these are cool," Toby sighed, "Look at them!"

"I am!" Hoggle insisted as he scratched his head.

Toby didn't hear the watchful approach until Hoggle stiffened next to him. And then he looked up to a thin smile and a knowing gaze. Jareth gave him a mock gesture of greeting and continued to lean his shoulder against a tree, legs crossed at the ankles and a vicious-looking riding crop tapping gently against his thigh. Toby cleared his throat and quickly looked uninterested in anything remotely dealing with flowers. From long experience, flowers were poofy things to like and if there was one person he needed to defend his sexuality in front of, it was this quirky Goblin King. So he stuffed his hands in his pockets and curled his lips convincingly.

Jareth let out a low laugh. "I beg of you not to insult my poor garden," he remarked.

"Are they yours?"

Hoggle miserably wished he could disappear, but he had his orders. He reasoned that it was safest to be away from His Highness when he spoke in 'just that tone'. Not to mention Toby was hitting a forced cheerfulness that spoke of trouble.

"Everything here is mine," Jareth said flippantly, "Everything contained in this world depends on my indulgence."

Toby knew what that hand was really caressing as it snaked up to and over the handle of the riding crop. After all, he'd felt it in intimate places last night. "You can't control everything," he snapped, "It's impossible."

Jareth afforded him a feral smirk. "On the contrary, my Toby. Everything that seems impossible isn't. And everything that is possible is frequently of no interest to me whatsoever."

"Er, look at this flower, Toby," Hoggle said hurriedly, tugging on a sleeve and pointing to an unusual bloom. It was velvety white and small, the whole nestled in thick dark green foliage. The smell was heavenly, reminding Toby of lemon and something young and sweet and unspoiled.

"What is it?"

Jareth grabbed Hoggle's ear and shook hard, growling low in his throat in an irrational rage- "Get out of my sight, you abhorrent little toad! And pick your way to the outer walls with care. I may yet decide not to spare you." Hoggle scampered away, one last look at Toby as he left, loping along on bandy legs.

"You cruel monster," Toby gasped, eyes wide and angry, "How dared you!"

"I dare because I can, because I hold the power to dare in the palm of my hand. I am as I am, Toby; don't mistake that matter."

"Yeah, I'm getting that! Look, all he did was try to distract us from hissing at each by showing me a new kind of flower. What's wrong with that?"

There were two things wrong with it that Jareth knew of. One was that Hoggle had dared to take Toby's attention from him. The other- "Those flowers are of a special kind and our friend the dwarf pointed them out for a reason."

Toby looked at the flowers. He longed to touch them but they didn't seem any more special than that.

"My grandmother planted this garden over eight centuries ago as a wedding gift to the woman my father finally decided to marry. This plant is the only one my mother had a hand in growing; this one is the only one with an- an essence of her spirit. Hoggle wanted me to remember whose presence I was in. The fool forgot whose temper I have in the first place!"

"Oh." Well, Toby could understand that a little. Not much, but he could sort of see where things were coming from. Okay, so that didn't condone Jareth's viciousness. "What's it called?"

Jareth ignored the question and suddenly pricked up his ears as he heard a call from the Aboveground. "Forgive me," he excused indolently, "I am summoned." He vanished, leaving nothing but a swirling shimmer of glitter in the sunlit air.

Toby stared morosely at the spot so recently vacated and seriously considered pouting in his room for around a week. He could always intersperse it with bouts of hysterics just for a change every couple of hours or so. But then Hoggle was back, patting his arm and telling him not to take on so.

"It's just his way, Toby," Hoggle comforted, "He don't mean it!"

"Why the hell does everyone let him get away with it?" Toby burst out, "He treats everyone like trash! Couldn't you, you know, revolt or something?"

Hoggle looked shocked and then burst out laughing, actually clutching his tummy as the hilarity of it all built up. "The goblins? Revolt?" he chuckled, "Now that would be funny! I'd give my jewels to see that, I would! Oh no. We can't revolt."

"Why not?"

"We likes our King," Hoggle said with a solemn nod of his big head.

Toby digested that thought. "I've lost my hearing," he reasoned at last, "You just said you like Jareth?"

"I said we likes our King," Hoggle corrected, "Not to be confused with Jareth. They's two different people usually. Jareth, now, is a rat and I've always said so. But he's a dangerous rat so I wouldn't go telling him that! The Goblin King is a right pig but he keeps the Kingdom in shape. Managing the Labyrinth ain't no joke, you know, and he keeps it hisself! Puts everything in order and has time to keep friendly with the other Kingdoms around us."

For the first time since his arrival, Toby looked avidly interested, flopping down in the grass and drinking in everything Hoggle said with softly parted lips. "There are other Kingdoms?"

"Course there are! There's a whole world around here. Bet the Kings know more about it than us but there's places we haven't even discovered yet. Why the Fairy Kingdom lies that-a-ways and the Lawless Kingdom lies right outside the Labyrinth gates. Uh, that's the Kingdom which don't have no King, so to speak. They gots their Queen killed in the Great Battle and the whole Kingdom just collapsed. King Aiden, Jareth's grandfather, sent the dragons there to get rid of 'em. Only those dragons and a few outlaws live there now."

"How wonderful! I mean, how terrible! For the Kingdom, I mean. But what's this Great Battle? Is it like a World War?"

Hoggle looked confused. "World War?"

"You know- the entire country wants to fight for the sake of their people, not just the army but even the ordinary people in the streets. And the entire world is at war and people are dropping bombs left, right and centre and there's blood and chaos everywhere!"

Hoggle looked saddened by the description. "Yup, we hads ourselves a World War all right. We dwarfs used to live in the Lawless Kingdom. It used to be the Little Kingdom, 'cause it was so small and especially for all the little folks who weren't no goblin or fairy. We dwarfs- and them pixies and elves- we used to live there. Then the war happened when the Fairies invaded. King Aiden refused to help us even though Queen Jubilee promised him anythin' he wanted so we tried to do it alone. But elvish magic ain't nothin' against fairies and we lost. Queen Jubilee was beheaded. Then King Aiden attacked as well."

"That sucks! What a bastard!"

"It was a nice Kingdom," Hoggle excused, "Never seen it myself, but my old Gran used to talk about it. Said it hads beauty like you never seen before."

Toby leaned in closer, absorbing a fascinating history of bloodshed like it was all a fairytale in itself. "So what happened then? Did King Aiden lose the battle to restore your Kingdom?"

"Restore nothing! He wanted the Kingdom for himself! Just didn't want to do the dirty work. So he waited for the fairies to kill half of us off and attacked to finish the job his way. He almost had it too, 'cepting the Fairy Queen came to join her husband and together they had enough magicks to beat him hollow. King Aiden got the Earthstone then. It's a jewel, like, and it made him stronger so he won this time. It went on and on. Fairies and goblins got poorer and poorer. There were people dying and nothing would grow and still those old fools kept fighting."

"But how did it end?"

"End? Why, they fought so long they destroyed the entire Kingdom! Nobody wanted it no more so they left it be and went home to save their own Kingdoms. King Aiden got one spark of goodness in his whole life and he said we Littlers could come and live in the Goblin City if we wanted. We didn't want to, but we hads nowhere else to go. So here I am, a dwarf in the Goblin City."

Toby took a deep breath and looked sympathetic. Poor Hoggle! No wonder he hated Jareth. "Wow," he said at last, "That would be crappy. I guess the Goblin Kings aren't very nice."

Hoggle shrugged. "Come on. I'll take you down to the Goblin City. There's people there dying to see you. You's famous, you know, you and Sarah."

"We are?" Toby knew about Sarah, but himself? What had he done?

"Yeah. No one else escaped the Labyrinth without the Goblin King's permission," Hoggle pointed out, "You're the first baby to be getting away. All that lot in the castle didn't, you know."

Toby shook his head in a daze, but got to his feet. Wait! There was just one last question- "Hoggle, why did Jareth get angry when you showed me those white flowers?"

"Aw, it weren't important!" Blue eyes pleaded. "Oh all right! But don't tell him I told you! Them were planted by Jareth's mother. Named them after him, she did. They don't grow nowhere else but here."

Oh. So that explained it.

In the castle, Jareth stared at the crystal in his hand as he watched approvingly. Hoggle wasn't the most intelligent of people, but the dwarf was doing very well so far. Perhaps Toby should get to meet Sir Didymus and Ludo too? Perhaps...

"Your plan is working, my friend," he said to the figure behind him.

Dark hair fell over broad shoulders in much the way that Jareth's own hair did. But the being said nothing, merely chuckling lightly in his mind as he answered the compliment with an extravagant bow.

Jareth laughed back and then popped the crystal, walking over to glance at the toddler asleep in the being's arms. "Take warning from me and heed yourself," he teased, "bonding with children is never easy. And the heavens know I would have given my Kingdom to have the bond broken when I first found out."

"And now?"

Jareth considered the question in all seriousness. "Now I'm not so sure," he admitted finally, "It is time I settled. I may take a wife for heirs and keep Toby as my lover; it has certainly been done before. He interests me, that child. And the taste of something sweetly innocent is surprisingly enticing. I cannot lie and say he does not have a way about him. His sister was just such a one, but far too easy to bend. Toby, I think, will not easily relinquish his hold on the light."

"And you were ever of the darkness, Jareth?" A light laugh accompanied the words as the sleeping toddler was rocked gently in strong arms. "You take your heritage too much to heart."

"Be that as it may, I believe I will attempt this in a civilized manner for now," the Goblin King decided. Turning back to the crystal floating behind him, his mouth curled at the edges, lids falling half shut. "This one won't make it in time," he chuckled, apparating to lead his newest victim astray himself.

Dark eyes glared at the sleeping toddler and quickly laid it aside, pulling an elaborately carved hand mirror from a pocket and murmuring a quick word to it. Instantly the shimmer of purplish-blue light glimmered over the polished surface before showing him a laughing youth talking animatedly with a crowd of avid goblins who questioned him on the strange customs and wares of the world Aboveground.


	7. Dangers Untold

﻿ 

"Kyfrem, why does everyone keep congratulating me?" Toby demanded, handing his clothes over to the little goblin who was watching him with a stern frown, "And don't frown like that! I'm not going to wear these pants again tomorrow anyway. They're too tight!"

Kyfrem had lived a long time in the service of the King, having been the personal valet to a minor Lord of the realm before being sent over to assist King Jareth when he was ill with some kind of fever. From having dressed a goblin- who, truth be told, could only look marginally better no matter what he wore- King Jareth had been a joy to work for. Of course, the downside was that once the King recovered, Kyfrem had been left without work. But now that he had been told to take care of the King's new bond mate... Kyfrem considered himself the happiest goblin in all of the Goblin Kingdom. Except where Toby's fashion sense was concerned. Nevertheless, Kyfrem was resigned to working within a narrow limitation.

"Well, your Lordship, it's the principal of the thing," Kyfrem answered, bundling the clothes together, "It's a great thing to find your bond mate. And you and King Jareth make such a beautiful pair. They all think you're very happy with such a match."

"But I don't want to be his bond mate! I didn't even know what a bond mate was until he dragged me down here!" Toby was tired and petulant, feeling restless in the stillness of the dark night. Something called to him, tickling his mind like a butterfly's wing... the threat of impending danger. The feeling of being watched had intensified over the days, leaving him unable to sleep most nights for the weird dreams sleep brought.

Kyfrem shrugged helplessly. "It happens. Why, my nephew got married to a pretty little goblin lady and then got himself bonded to her elder sister. She was married too!"

Toby suppressed a grimace at the thought but sat down on the edge of his bed and asked, "What did he do?" Actually, he got the feeling he didn't want to know; not so much because he wasn't interested, but because this liberal kind of attitude boded ill for his own situation.

"Hmmm? Oh! They live together in one house, all four of them. Works well mostly, unless the ladies get into a fight."

Toby rolled his eyes. Personally, he couldn't see anything worthwhile in bonding yourself to one person for life. Suppose one began to hate them, or they died, or it was just inconvenient to act on the bond? What then? But he didn't say so to Kyfrem. He was getting rather fond of his personal valet and didn't want to offend him. Kyfrem left after a few more minutes, leaving his 'lordship' to walk listlessly around the room and scratch at one pale hip. Toby was feeling very out of place right then. According to his calculations, Sarah was due to be getting married in another ten days too. He wished he could have seen her one last time before then.

There was no moon that night and as far as he could tell the Underground did not have stars. The sky hung low and purplish- black, blanketing the unusual land as if wrapping it up in a protective layer of something. The morbid fancy fed the fears already lurking deep in the boy's mind and he winced as the invisible touch of apprehension prickled over his skin. His mind fixed on one thought. His feet reacted before he could think. And Toby found himself walking swiftly out the door of his room and padding noiselessly down the corridors. He hadn't thought to pull on a dressing gown or something before he left, so he shivered slightly in the fresh air, feeling the goosebumps rise on his arms as he passed the windows.

Door after door he passed, not sure whether he wanted to open them and liking this dark quietude even less than the loneliness of his room. Jareth, he thought frantically, Jareth must be behind this. The boy tried to think of anything unusual that the Goblin King could have planned to have happen to him, or anything he had eaten that the Goblin King could have poisoned. But there had been nothing untoward that had occurred in his day and for some reason he doubted Jareth had touched anything he'd eaten. It was just a thought, one of those slender rays of sunlight that had begun to filter into his head more frequently as of late.

Toby saw the light under the door of the library and baulked, too nervous to enter. It was open to all and he didn't want to meet someone else right now. He didn't feel like he could trust anyone except Hoggle or Kyfrem and both those didn't like books. Even the goblins could be frightening, just in the way they looked at him or spoke to him. He wasn't very comfortable with the ribald joking at his expense, or with being worshipped like a living God. Having to put up with it at night was too much.

Cautiously he opened the door.

Cautiously he widened the opening as he saw no one and made to enter.

"Is there something I can do for you?"

Toby yelped, bumped his head against the wooden door frame and hit himself in the foot as his hand on the door jerked in shock.

Jareth emerged from behind the stacks; book in hand and a slight smile on his face. He said nothing as the mortal cursed pungently beneath his breath and rubbed at his bruises and injuries. In truth, he was rather surprised to see Toby here at all. While he was aware that the boy used his library, he hadn't thought he would be quite fond enough to use it at night.

The library was situated in a room unusual in its seemingly small enclosure but its enormously high ceiling. The two windows set in the left wall were one of the few with glass panes set in them, and curtains available to drape closed or open as one pleased. A desk and chair stood beneath the windows and a table and armchairs were littered over the floor invitingly. The majority of the books were on shelves constructed on a platform guarded by a strong iron railing. The shelves rose up into the soaring eaves of the ceiling and Toby had not yet mastered the courage to climb up and see what lay on the topmost shelves.

Jareth vaulted lightly over the iron railing with the book under his arm and curled up in an armchair. Gaping, Toby thought he looked a bit like an overgrown kitten, resting on his left hip with his legs drawn up under him. The half-goblin then proceeded to prop his fair head in his hand and start to read.

"I, uh, didn't mean to disturb you," Toby muttered, turning to go.

Mismatched eyes didn't look up but Jareth shook his head. "You weren't," the deep voice said pleasantly, "Come in, if you'd like. I'm just getting some work done. You are perfectly at liberty to go where you want in here."

"Thank you."

Toby stepped into the cold room, enjoying the strange flickers of light from the blazing lamps. It was a welcoming light at all events, he excused. He didn't want to think that some of it had to do with the unexpected sight of his host's domesticity. He began to wonder what work could keep Jareth up so late. "Um, what are you reading?"

Again those eyes rose to meet his. But there was no hint of teasing, or long searching glances; even anger or frustration was absent. Startled, Toby realized Jareth was looking serious and- if he admitted it- rather exhausted. It brought to mind Hoggle's little lecture on the job of the Goblin King. The half-goblin silently closed his book and held it out to Toby to take for himself.

After a slight hesitation, the child took it, glancing up warily one last time before reading the cover and beginning to flip through it. "The history of the Labyrinth?" he asked, intrigued already as he flopped down in the other armchair. From long habit he bit at a nail, warmly cocooned in the leathery depths of his seat as he avidly devoured the few bits of information he got from flicking past pages.

Jareth frowned slightly at the interest. "You are very peculiar," he remarked, "You actually sound interested in my work."

"Well, I live here now," Toby defended himself, trying not to seem too accommodating, "I might as well know a little bit about everything. It's just interesting, you know."

"I do," Jareth nodded, "But I do not imagine many would see things your way. The Labyrinth is not the most interesting of places. And it certainly is a frustration." The book was handed back to him with a sigh so soft that even his preternaturally good hearing almost didn't pick it up.

Briefly he dived back into his book and began to sift through the pages. The Labyrinth was due for an overhaul- as was done every six years or so- and he was finally running out of ideas to implement. Trick doors and pit falls were all very well, but he needed something really worth the risk, the effort. The point was not to make it impossible to win, but to make it so possible that it dangled like a prize just out of reach of those desperate to solve it. He was hoping to get a few ideas from times past. But something out of the corner of his eyes bothered him.

He looked up: Toby was still sitting there, a reflective look on his face as he played with the hem of his t-shirt. The thin shoulders shivered slightly and Jareth remembered that to a mortal, the night air could be somewhat cold.

The half-goblin sighed and put the book down. Summoning a crystal, he tossed it lightly at the fireplace and watched it flare into bright flames that flickered in that warming way. His own body did not really need it, but he saw memories in the dancing flames. He turned to his bond mate and nodded.

Toby was quite certain that this Goblin King had more moods than his mother during menopause. Right then, he seemed oddly likable. And from the friendly concern in those usually cold eyes, it seemed Toby was going to be drawn into a conversation for the next few moments.

"Tell me what troubles you," Jareth said gently, "You look very pensive. Is there something wrong?"

Toby shrugged and looked back down to the hem of his shirt.

"You know wandering the hallways in those clothes is not advisable."

Blue eyes rose sharply but Jareth merely looked concerned and very non-threatening. "I don't think your goblins will do anything to me," Toby muttered.

Jareth smiled and nodded ruefully. "That is right," he admitted, "I had forgotten. They have strict orders not to hurt you in any way." The half-goblin paused for an instant and then plunged on. "You need not look so frightened, Toby. I won't hurt you either."

"Look, if this is some attempt…"

"No attempt, just a reassurance. I will not apologize for the way I have behaved, for you are unharmed and I wouldn't have hurt you in any case. From now on you can feel safe from me. Or perhaps I should say from any unwanted attention from me."

"In other words, you won't try to seduce me again?"

"No. Not unless you wish it," Jareth agreed. He grinned in a disarmingly boyish way as Toby gave him an incredulous look. "Yes, yes, I know: 'you will never wish it'. That is your choice; you are free to make it. I do, however, ask one thing. You are going to be here for a very long time and I would like to think we could at least have a civilized conversation."

Toby continued looking unconvinced. The way he saw it, he had two options. He could leave immediately and deny this weird dream-thing was ever happening. Or he could stay and give this a chance. One side of him reminded himself of every manipulative thing Jareth had ever done or said, warning him that the fae could not be trusted. The other side- the side that Toby rarely heard at all unless in matters concerning Jareth- told him that Jareth looked too tired and lonely to be lying about anything. Another, much more cynical side of himself, pointed out that if he was going to watched at night, he might as well stay with Jareth to keep an eye on the watcher.

"What do you want to talk about?" he finally settled on, sidling further into his over-stuffed armchair and folding his arms across his chest.

Jareth shifted to a more comfortable point and absent-mindedly pushed a few wisps of blond hair behind his ear. "You could tell me about what you were thinking," he suggested dryly.

Toby found himself grinning in return as he laid his head back. His eyes moved slowly over the ceiling as he marshalled his thoughts. It was a delicate subject but by logical conclusion, the Goblin King was the best person to question- "I was thinking about this bond thing. And there's stuff that I don't know or don't understand. And no one can really tell me anything about it."

"What do you want to know?" Jareth prompted. He thanked his fates that he had removed the heavy coat he'd been wearing for a simple peasant shirt in blue. That fire was getting too warm for his liking and there were about to be a lot of things said that he thought Toby needed to know if this was to work on any level. Toby might not want to know a lot of it.

"Well, why does everyone think it's such a big deal?" Toby demanded, "For example- I went down to the Goblin City today and at least five people congratulated me on the thing. How come?"

"As I told you before, a bond is a very special thing to the immortal. At least, we call ourselves immortals because we live far longer than you mortals ever will," Jareth corrected, "For instance, I have ruled as King for two hundred and twenty seven years. I ascended to the throne when I was already passed my two hundredth year. In total, I have lived for four hundred and fifty one years. And over four hundred years can be a vast amount of time to spend alone."

"Oh."

"Indeed."

The two sat in silence for a moment, contemplating such a length of time from entirely different points of view. Toby couldn't even imagine living that long. Jareth, for his part, felt he had revealed a little too much of his life to his new bond mate for his own comfort in too ambiguous a manner.

"I suppose that would be lonely," Toby commented, "Don't you have friends or something? Family?"

Jareth looked astonished at the question but then smiled, remembering that Toby truly didn't know anything about him. It seemed so easy to believe he had been here forever. "I do have family.

But my parents are dead and I was an only child," he explained, "It was rather... a disordered household, to grow up in. My mother was a fairy."

Toby blinked. A fairy? Like the little ones that flew around in the gardens and poked people with their little fingers? Jareth had come out of a fairy? He asked as much, looking very relieved when the half-goblin rolled his eyes and groaned.

"Of course not, you ignorant child," Jareth snapped, a hint of his old humour showing through, "Those are mere hybrids. I suppose you have been told of the Fairy-Goblin tensions that exist in the Underground? When my father began to look for a wife, he was offered his choice of the noblewomen from that land as a seal to a truce he had recently negotiated. He accepted and married the Lady Frielda. The marriage was one of convenience and they certainly never bonded. However, it was enough to allay fears of war and it explains the reason that I look more faerie than goblin."

"I did wonder," Toby admitted thoughtlessly.

Jareth suppressed a smile as he watched the small face frown slightly as the boy thought it through. He found it all quite amusing, actually, that Toby was so fascinated by the stories of the Underground. Toby treated them like some complex new study, absorbing all this information and persistently asking 'why'. Of course, it was all opinion, he realized. His goblins could listen for hours to lists of electric appliances that were available in the Aboveground.

"So you're half fairy and half goblin," Toby remarked, "Man, that would be tough!"

"It has its advantages," Jareth pointed out, not wanting to be pitied, "It allows me greater leverage when negotiating with the fairies over trade or peace-keeping treaties, and the attributes of both my parents have been invaluable to the job. I'm content."

"Really? Then why do you need a bond mate?" Toby demanded, "Not like I mind or anything- much- but if you're happy, then why am I here?"

"You're here because I am not happy," Jareth murmured, stiffening in his seat as the talk became too personal, "I am content. There's a difference."

"Why's there a difference?"

"Because there is!"

"But why?"

"Because!"

"Why?"

"Because everyone needs someone to understand," Jareth growled, "A bond mate understands and cares. I believe I am entitled to have that in my life"

Toby digested that fact like all the others. Did he understand Jareth? No. So he didn't understand why Jareth needed a bond for anything. Did he care about Jareth? He hadn't thought so but it was currently becoming a hard question to answer. He cared about this version of the Goblin King, who was busy with work but took the time off to talk like a decent human being, who seemed lonely in spite of being so proud he wouldn't admit it, and who looked so worn out that he might just collapse if he tried to stand.

"Sit," Toby commanded, "I'll get you some water."

"I don't think I want any." Toby glared, Jareth sighed, and the water was accepted and drunk. "Thank you, my elf."

The endearment dropped from Jareth's lips as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Toby wanted to contest it, disliking the memories it conjured up of that first hateful day when Jareth had humiliated him. He still could not think of his father without flinching as if the slap had landed on his face all over again. But as Jareth seemed not to notice it, Toby wisely said nothing and let it go.

"So tell me more about the bond," he said, clearing his throat to bring Jareth out of whatever haze he was in.

Mismatched eyes blinked a few times as reality pushed back and then he nodded, waving Toby back to a seat. "The Underground is a magical world," he began, "And very often the magic between an individual and an object is not so different than that between two individuals. No, let me explain! Hmmm. If, for instance, I was to summon a crystal for you, what would you do with it?"

Toby thought hard. "Float it around the room," he said at last.

"Fine. You would play with it. If you were to summon that crystal, you would feel the touch of it on your fingertips. Crystals feel like soap bubbles made tangible- very slippery and smooth. But touching them can sometimes be like touching a human. They contain energy, the magic within them gives them movement and they certainly have the potential for pleasure or pain. Do you see what I mean?"

"A little," Toby murmured, shifting uncomfortably at the thought. It made him wonder what Jareth thought of as he conjured one up.

"Well, this magic can bind us to a certain place. For example, I am myself bound to the Labyrinth. It exists with me and through me and I pledge myself to it. That is why I am only the Lord of the Labyrinth, though I am the King of the Goblins. Everyone here has a place that has an especial meaning for them, be it their place of work or a place of leisure and thought. I think you will find your friend Hoggle is bound to the boundaries of the Labyrinth. He prefers being outside the goblin influence, you see, and appreciates the peace of his chosen place. Hence he is my gatekeeper."

Toby nodded and wrapped his mind around the concept. He supposed it was something like having your own room or a favourite seat in class.

"Well, it repeats itself for people," Jareth explained, leaning forward and using his hands to illustrate, "As individuals we look for something in another person that we need in our lives and we bind ourselves to them. A twin may often be bound to a twin; or a friend may bind with a friend. A husband may bind with a wife or a father may bind with a son. Any relationship is possible. It is most often sexual, but need not be. The basic reason is that, in the Underground, classification is a very fluid and unnecessary barrier. And if you have trusted your soul and all you are to a person, would you not then find a desire within your heart to explore a physical experience of that bonding? Most do; and that is why most relationships are formed between lovers or between people who go on to become lovers."

Toby felt his throat go dry. Jareth's voice had dropped several notes to a deeper purr. And he had begun to worry that all this friendliness had been a ruse to get to him again. He didn't even know why Jareth would bother with someone like him; he wasn't the greatest looking guy at the best of times! And just because he was thin and blond and boyish-looking, it didn't mean he was a faggot. But the Goblin King was staring at the worn carpet underfoot, his glowing eyes looking inward to something Toby could not see.

"So why do they call me a Child of the Sun?" Toby asked abruptly. He hated that look on Jareth's face. It made him look too vulnerable! And somehow that seemed wrong.

Jareth looked startled, but gained his composure. "The Cosmic Equation," he pointed out, "Nature has two basic shifts- the day and the night. The sky is the central point in all our magic, as the sun warms the earth and encourages life, and the moon pulls the tides and allows the land cool respite. The Sun is widely considered to be the mood of light- cheerful, optimistic, honest mostly... things that an open, uncomplicated person is said to be. The Moon is widely seen as the mood of darkness- caution, mysticism... even duplicity. If you like, you can think of it this way: a Child of the Sun is rooted in good; a Child of the Moon is rooted in evil."

"So I'm a Child of a Sun?" Toby asked, looking quite a bit taken aback by that explanation, "That's a good thing, right?"

"Very," Jareth grinned, "Considering I am, myself, of the Moon."

Toby's lower jaw dropped. Jareth was a Child of the Moon? And how had he explained it... 'rooted in evil'? Oh no, Toby did not like the sound of that. "I, uh, think I should go to bed now," he stammered, getting up and walking warily to the door, one eye on Jareth to watch out for surprise attacks.

Jareth stayed curled up in his seat, an odd look in his eyes as if he had expected something of the sort but wished it did not have to happen. "It does not mean that those descriptions are of actual character," he said quietly, "Light may be persuaded to evil as the rain can cloud the day, and the night can be persuaded to good as the moon lights the way. The night is merely the time for shadows and mysticism, and that is traditionally the setting for danger. But some of the most beauteous things come from the night. Have you, for instant, heard a chorus of wolves?"

Toby stood by the door and shook his head, making sure he knew exactly where the door handle was in case he needed to escape in a hurry.

Jareth sighed dreamily. "It is a terrifying thing, but the wonder of it all is immense. The glories of nature, you see. And if you look out the window now, even on a night like this, the Labyrinth will glitter with lines of silver and bronze beneath the night sky. We of the Moon do fight a natural inclination to darkness within ourselves, but it does not make us evil. Which is why the Cosmic Equation is so essential."

Toby felt the fear dissipate as the whispers ceased and the conversation began to make sense again. Plus, this was more information than anyone else would ever give him and he was curious about this Cosmic Equation. "What is that?"

"Night cannot live without day just as day could not live without night," Jareth murmured, as if chanting something he had studied for many such lonely nights in his long life, "The relationship must have a balance. A Child of the Moon has, as I said, a natural inclination to darkness. Darkness is not evil, but can be a manifestation of such. A Child of the Sun can become lost in the pleasures of life to the exclusion of all else. Not a bad thing in moderation but extremely dangerous if it becomes an entire reason for being. Therefore one needs the other for balance."

Toby cleared his throat and noticed, when he spoke, that his voice was as soft as a fall of snow. "You need me," he interpreted, wide-eyed and numbly comprehending, "Is that what this is? When I was a child and you played with me, you needed me and so we bonded. Because you need me to balance your life."

"Yes."

"I see."

"I don't think you do," Jareth disagreed. He rose from his seat and approached his bond mate, reaching out a gentle hand to stroke the side of the shell-shocked face. "I have given you much to think about, Toby. Go to bed now. Sleep. You can think on it in the morning. There is all the time in the world."

Toby nodded and unconsciously nudged further into the touch. It was oddly soothing. No one had ever told him the seriousness of what he had gotten himself into before, and now that he knew, he was a little terrified. To be all that and more to someone was a frightening thought. And for this Goblin King, when the darkness was evident in the mocking gleam of his eyes and the almost cruel curl of his lips... Toby needed the comfort to know that he could do this.

"Good night, my elf," Jareth whispered, leaning forward and placing a soft, sweet kiss on the boy's brow, "Make your own decision in your own time." He released him and watched as the door shut softly behind the small golden figure.

Frowning slightly, Jareth rubbed at his sleep-heavy eyes and steeled himself to go back to work. The reordering of the Labyrinth was a long process and required too much of his energy to waste time in getting it done. The sooner the plans were completed, the sooner he could finish it. He certainly didn't want such powerful magic as his running rampant through the land while the harvest was on! And it soon would be in a few more months. No, he needed to work now, and think of his bond mate later.

Toby's dreams were strange that night. The dark shadow that had begun to haunt his dreams sat by his bed, a cold hand on his shoulder as a deep voice whispered terrible things to his mind. It questioned everything he was and everything he could be, reminding him of failures and scoffing at victories. There was something so familiar about the phrases and the little mannerisms that Toby tried to move away from it. And the hand began to slip under the blanket and down until the figure was touching the curve of Toby's lower back.

Toby opened his eyes with a gasp as something grasped him tight and pulled him closer.


	8. Dark Shadows

﻿ 

Author's Note: I must again issue a warning that this contains ADULT THEMES OF RAPE! Do not read if you are squeamish, do not like slash, or cannot stand the thought or vision of non-consensual sex. Do not flame me for your own inability to read the summaries and warnings that I liberally supply.

-------------------------------------------------------

There was light somewhere; Toby was dimly aware of that. A blink of his sleep-hazed eyes and he noticed it was coming from the window, where dawn would soon be breaking in the glory of a typically sunny Labryinthian summer day. But for now...

The boy jerked backwards as the arm scooped him forward, trying to wriggle out from under the covers that hampered his movements. The second arm joined in and to Toby's ultimate shock, the dark figure settled quite comfortably on top of him. "Get off," seemed about all he could manage. So he said it as forcefully as he could.

The being laughed, leaned sweetly over him and adjusted himself on top so that his hands were trapped to his sides by two well-placed knees. Toby struggled, but his captor was bigger and apparently much stronger than he was. There was an air of mystery and for the life of him Toby could not discern the features of the face he was looking directly at! All he was aware of was the dark of the hair and the burning blackness of the being's eyes.

He held still in shock as cold fingers slowly slid over his jaw, before gently patting his lower lip. For one wild moment, he contemplated biting it, but the being shook his head and took it away. "Well, dear heart," a voice whispered, a cold finger flicking down his neck and dancing maddeningly just inside the neck of his shirt, "And what shall I do with you?"

Toby spat viciously and snapped, "You could let me go, psycho! Before I call for help and you get caught."

The figure in black chuckled, a rich throaty sound that tickled at his captive's ears like a needle. "I think not," he answered smugly, "After all, the Goblin King's chief whore is not such a precious commodity. I can simply say you like to play games. I am here on official business."

Chief whore? Who did this guy think he was? Official business- Toby filed that away in his head for future reference and then pounced on the next lifeline. Most of the people he had met feared the Goblin King- "Jareth will skin you alive if you touch me. Let me go now and I won't say a thing to him. Don't let me go- I'll scream the place down." Unless it was Jareth himself? Toby couldn't tell.

"Such a bad child! And what makes you think I'll permit that?"

Toby opened his mouth to shout or swear but a thick piece of leather was already being forced between his teeth. He tried to spit it out but he couldn't. This wasn't just an awkward situation anymore, but an honestly terrifying assault. He struggled in earnest now, wriggling out from under his captor and trying to get to the door. Strong fingers held like iron as he was pinned down, his arms tugged up and clamped above his head. Toby's stomach lurched as metal bound cold around his wrists, locking him to the sheets. He was captured; never so vulnerable as when he lay bound and gagged beneath he weight of the other man.

The man looked down, pleased with himself. His victim was in position, defenceless, the boyish body sprawled in inelegant beauty across the sheets, the golden hair tangled and mussed on the pillows. But those eyes! Oh, he could gaze at the angry terror in those blue eyes all day. Though, now he thought of it... anger wasn't one of his favourites. Pure terror was preferable. Pain was better!

He bent down, his lips brushing the curve of Toby's ear: "Where were we? Ah yes! You were threatening me with the wrath of your bond mate. Well, perhaps he will be furious. Perhaps he will rage and storm throughout the Kingdom for this. And do you know why? Because you let this happen! You invited it, parading around the way you do. Does His Majesty know? I think not; he's been too busy to really see the way you behave. The way you talk. You can rest assured that this is all... your... fault."

Not Jareth, then. Toby might have laughed in relief and in disbelief if he wasn't so petrified. He shook his head violently, fiercely denying any of it.

"Oh, but he would think so; you know the way he thinks. And then you- such beauty, such physical poetry in motion... and rumour has it that you won't let him share your bed." The dark chuckle sounded again, this time echoing in his other ear. "What will he think but that his innocent prize entices others to take what His Majesty is denied? Think, dear heart; your word is not worth much to him as it is."

Toby stiffened as hands ripped at his shirt, tearing it off his chest and shoulders right down to his trousers. The stupidest thought of what Kyfrem would say about his torn clothes entered his mind. He didn't resist, though. For one thing because there was little he could do besides wriggle and that seemed to be what his attacker wanted. And in any case, it had to be just a trick. People didn't go around saying and doing such things. Not to Jareth's 'property' at least. Maybe it was just another type of dream? Toby consoled himself with that thought. If it was unreal, it didn't need to affect him.

Hands slid cold over warm skin, rejoicing in the delicacy. But his toy was too still, surely? He wanted a plea; he wanted a murmur; he wanted something that told him the child knew exactly what was happening to him. The man licked over a collarbone. That earned him no response. He kissed down the gentle dip in the centre of Toby's chest. No response again. He finally smirked before fastening his mouth over a nipple and sucking. The body under him jerked and a soft sound of protest reached his ears.

He looked up and caught dawning recognition in those wide blue eyes. Toby began to breathe heavily as the blank face he stared at began to smile.

The games were over. Hands pushed Toby's pants down and off, out of the way as the boy stared down at dark hair in horror, his mind melting into incredulous denial as his knees were pushed to his chest. For surely no one could really do something like that to him? Not after he said no?

He felt his attacker press down on top of him and tried to shift the weight away. But the man wouldn't move! It was certainly a man, with his strong limbs and that… Toby's brain froze when fingers drifted down the backs of his thighs. He gave a muffled sound of protest as those fingers touched places no one had the right to in Toby's opinion. Something else began to press at his mind, giving him a vague ache as he clenched mind and body against this invasion. The sudden eruption of pain as a hot, hard something slammed callously into him made his concentration break. His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and the muscles in his arms tightened against the bond. Muffled cries of pain ripped out from Toby's slender throat, tears spilling from the corners of his closed eyes.

It hurt! God, but it hurt!

His rapist grinned at the sight and thrust deeper, harder, rolling his hips so the abused flesh was tormented just a touch more.

Dark eyes blazed and burned. The man was pleased! Toby whimpered and pressed back against the pillows, wrists trying futilely to break the bind on them. He was aware of fingers pressing alternately into his ribs and hips, could feel the rending of his muscles as they tried to accommodate the agonizing intruder. His brain burned and the pressure in his skull was so intense that he couldn't even hear his own screams any more. And finally, just when he thought that nothing could get worse, he choked as he felt himself flooded with the unwanted outcome of such an act, ribs creaking as the full weight of a large man pressed down on his slight body.

His rapist disappeared just as suddenly as he had appeared, and Toby was left alone. He was left bound and gagged on the bed, semen still hot inside him and tears wet on his cheeks. His head pounded and he could taste bile on the back of his throat. He twisted his head in fright as the door opened.

Jareth stopped in the doorway; his surprised eyes caught more by the sumptuous arrangement of his bond mate's golden body on the white sheets than by the look on Toby's face. It was only when the still-curled legs crashed back to the mattress in embarrassment that he roused himself to action.

"Toby! What happened?" he demanded, locking the door behind him and striding over to pull the leather strip from the boy's mouth.

Blue eyes were glazed and terrified as they stared up at him, the small body shaking in earnest. "No... no, please... don't touch me."

Hips squirmed away on the bed. And then Jareth saw them- a few drops of blood on the sheets where Toby had been lying. His quick mind instantly put two and two together. He got off the bed, backing away a step with his hands out and open. "I won't hurt you," Jareth promised gently, "I won't touch you unless you allow me. But we need to get those cuffs off. You're hurt. You need to see a doctor for..."

"NO!" The shout rang desperately through the air. "No, I- I don't need anything; I don't need anyone. I just- go away! I'm fine. I'm fine. Nothing happened... no, nothing happened. I swear it. Please believe me, Jareth. Please? I tried! I promise I tried, but he was so strong, so... Oh God, he hurt me. He hurt me!"

Bewildered panic dissolved into tears of rage and shame and child-like wails filled the chamber. Toby curled up, hands still locked to the bedhead but trying futilely to protect himself. Jareth was seriously worried now. Moving as slowly as he dared, he leaned across to Toby's bound hands and got the cuffs unlocked with a simple flick of magic. Toby gulped in fear and moved away, rubbing his wrists to ease the bruises.

Jareth didn't move away. Instead, he held out his hand to the shivering child, murmuring soothing words as best he could.

Toby was beginning to refocus, to come out of the emotional daze he'd curled himself into. "J- Jareth?"

The Goblin King smiled somewhat in relief. "Yes. What happened? I know you were hurt, Toby, but I can help you if you let me."

"You can't help me." Was that fear in Toby's voice? Jareth hadn't thought he'd ever hear such a fiery creature sound so defenceless. "No one can help me."

Jareth kept his hand extended. "Let me try," he insisted.

Toby hid behind the tangled thick of his hair and shook his head, eyes downcast as he tried to curl in on himself again, to forget the pain inside and out. "You'll hate me," he whispered, "And you can't change the past. You can reorder time but you can't change the past. You'll hate me."

"I won't," Jareth pleaded, "Please! Let me help."

Again the tousled head shook its refusal. A bigger shiver ran down Toby's spine as his torn clothing let the cold air touch his shock-cold skin. He wouldn't look up and far from accepting Jareth's offer of help he was shying away from it.

The half-goblin finally dropped his hand, his eyes fixed on Toby's averted face. The mortal couldn't even look at him. Hot anger surged up to his tongue. Not only had someone just dared to touch what was essentially his, but Toby was just a boy! A child who hadn't ever known a man! Surely that was obvious to anyone? But the sheet was staining red with the blood seeping down between his legs.

Innocence... Toby was pure innocence and someone had deliberately corrupted it.

Jareth shrugged out of his cape and handed it to the injured boy, waiting only to see him wrap himself up in it before making for the door.

Toby looked up, lost in the folds of the extravagant black garment, feeling less naked and finding his heart filled with a darkness he couldn't truly understand. It was lodged in his throat so tight, and felt so familiar; like he was waking up to find he was filled with a sadness that could harm someone. Had he always been like this? He heard the click of boots moving to the door. The darkness threatened to draw closer. His throat tightened even more.

_'I own you, dear heart. I'm always with you. But I'll come to you with the darkness...'  
_  
"Jareth, no!"

The Goblin King turned, nodding silently when Toby stared beseechingly at him. The tears had dried, leaving salt tracks on the smooth cheeks. This time when he held out his hand, a small golden one slipped into it.

Toby bit his lip in shame as his legs refused to let him move without the spearing pain flaring through his body. He tried, and his legs buckled from under him.

Jareth sighed inwardly and tamped down on his anger at such a sight. Anger would only serve to frighten Toby in his condition. Besides, it wasn't the pain so much as the shock; Toby was still in a daze and still too stunned to command his limbs with any great skill. Moving slowly and watching Toby watch his hands, he slid his arms around the child and picked him up. Luckily he had carried Toby before, so there was no struggle on the quick apparition to his own suite of rooms.

Toby naturally got suspicious the minute he opened his eyes to green and silver furnishings. "Why am I here?" he asked, looking around in trepidation. Fear again. "Where is this?."

The Goblin King laid his burden down on the bed and bade him stay still. "This is my room, where no one will disturb us unless I call. I need something to heal your injuries, my elf. I didn't think you'd want to stay there alone. And even if you did, I'm not leaving you by yourself."

Toby gulped and nodded. He would have gone mad if he'd been trapped in that awful place. Here, Jareth was with him. He was his bond mate; no one would dare come here now to hurt him, would they? His mind recalled every last painful moment and he gave a soft cry, retreating into that far corner of his mind again, locking his consciousness down from the sordid pain.

"Toby? Toby! No, you don't; come back here," Jareth commanded, tapping the non-bruised cheek gently, "Toby!" Blue eyes opened and fastened desperately on his. "I'm here, my elf. I'm here. No one will touch you now."

The boy blinked and the red haze of madness slipped away. "Promise me?" he begged, grabbing Jareth's arm with convulsive fingers. "No one at all?"

"I promise," Jareth agreed. It was an easy enough oath to take; whoever had dared lay a finger on his bond mate would find themselves on the wrong end of a very large pointed stake. But first things first- "Toby, I'm going to undress you. I need to check your injuries."

"NO!"

Jareth hastily stepped back as Toby made to jump backwards. He held out the little carved wooden box in his right hand. "You can trust me, Toby."

"How do I know?" His throat was raw and burning, his mind hating him for feeling this weak. Toby was not accustomed to feeling weak. He may look small and delicate but he had always been able to handle himself before. He'd fought off anyone or anything that had tried to harm him before. And now blazing dark eyes were branded into his very soul.

"I would never hurt you," a raw silk voice said soothingly, caressing his ears with gentleness, "Just trust me and let me help you. I can make the pain stop. And once a doctor has examined you..."

"NO!" The third time and Toby cringed back in apology, as if expecting a blow. "I- I don't want one. I don't... I mean, I just can't. Not now."

Jareth nodded. To hear that Toby trusted him so completely was no compensation for the fact that Toby had been hurt so badly that he couldn't trust anyone else! If anger was molten lava then the Goblin King was a volcano about to erupt. And somewhere outside the Labyrinth gates, Hoggle stared in alarm as stone crumbled into gravel with the force of angered magic rippling freely through the land. The goblins trembled and made for the open spaces, knowing their King's anger could well bring their houses down on top of them.

Compressing his lips, Jareth reached slowly for the cloak. Smooth, careful movement was the key. He didn't take his eyes from Toby's face, watching for any trait of denial or panic. Toby hesitated a minute and then let it go. His breath hitched as the mismatched eyes flared with fury at a renewed sight of his condition.

_'You let this happen... you invited it... your fault...'  
_  
Unclean, his mind screamed at him, unclean.

Jareth noted the panic but eased the shirt off Toby's torso before the human could say another word. There were bruises and a deepish scratch on his ribs, but otherwise it wasn't so bad. He dipped his fingers into the ointment in his hand and smeared some onto the golden skin. He had thought about the first time he would ever see Toby naked; he just hadn't ever imagined it would be like this!

Toby closed his eyes and clenched his fists. The less sane portion of his mind told him emphatically that Jareth couldn't do such a thing. But the rays of sunlight in his head were so pale. But Toby trusted them implicitly. His only other option was the shadow that lurked somewhere just out of range, waiting to tell him horrible things. He kept telling himself not to worry, that Jareth was a friend and had promised not to hurt him. He recited that mantra over and over in his head, feeling it running like a broken record, like a hoop, like a circle... 'the wheels on the bus go round and round' and all that, though he didn't want to think about songs he'd learned when he'd been a baby... Jareth was a friend and had promised not to hurt... Jareth was...

It got better when Jareth moved to his shoulders and his wrists, both bruised and suffering from the position of the cuffs. The half-goblin noticed white teeth were gnawing on the lower lip hard enough to make a tiny cut. A pink tongue flicked out instinctively to lick the blood away and the lips trembled, presumably because the contact with his saliva burned slightly. But then the teeth emerged again, worrying and biting and desperately pulling on the split lip until a steady trickle of blood began to run down the pointed chin. Jareth realized that Toby was inviting the pain in, rejoicing in it.

"Stop that," he snapped. Toby's eyes flew open in abject terror. The Goblin King gently placed a finger under his chin and shook his head. "Pain won't solve anything," he warned quietly, "Don't ever try and hurt yourself." Toby swallowed and nodded, closing his eyes in defeat as Jareth got up and walked to a door next to his bed.

Jareth came back with a bowl of tepid water, daubing blood away with a soft cloth and easing the healing cream over the torn lip. It trembled again beneath his finger and he vowed to kill whoever had done such a thing. The upper body done, the Goblin King was now left with a problem. "Toby, I need to see to the rest of you."

Toby did not realize that he had begun murmuring the words out loud- "Jareth's a friend... he promised... he won't hurt you... Jareth's a friend..." But Jareth did, and he pushed Toby carefully onto his back. The boy stiffened and the words faltered. He was open and vulnerable again! A vision of dark eyes with unspeakable evil in their depths came to him and he whimpered, thinking he was going mad.

Jareth held his breath, willing the boy to snap out of his shock and think rationally. He needed to examine the boy because someone had to! The injuries needed to be treated and if Toby's injuries were beyond Jareth's basic abilities, Arienne would have to be called no matter what Toby said. But considering such a terrifying loss of control, he wanted to allow Toby the space to choose. Either way it was imperative that he be allowed to examine Toby. Then the words began again; telling the half-goblin it was all right to proceed as Toby didn't have the energy to fight any more.

Toby turned over onto his stomach. He buried his face into the pillow and filled his lungs with the smell of pine and smoke that Jareth seemed to have. Pine and smoke comforted him, rested him as the air whispered over abused flesh.

"He's a friend..."- cool hands on his skin; a finger slipped between skin and brushed against the place where he hurt the most.

Jareth saw the thin shoulders begin to shake and grit his teeth. There was too much blood for his liking, though that was expected when such sensitive muscle was injured. The smell of sex that clung beneath the coppery tang was trying his limits to the utmost and in his own desperate anger he ripped up a few houses in the Goblin City by their foundations and send them raining down on the forest trees.

The cloth stained rust, the water turned murky and he still wasn't done. Wetting his fingers, he eased one into Toby's body, hearing a loud sob greet his actions.

It was no use. Jareth couldn't proceed because it risked too much and such an examination would only hurt more than do any good. Toby had certainly been torn. The only immediate piece of good news was that the Goblin King decided that it wasn't bad enough to need Arienne's immediate attention.

"It's almost done. Ssh! Almost finished." Toby clung to the husky voice like a lifeline even though the half-goblin could have been reciting his seven times tables for all he understood.

Finally it was over and hands were pulling him up and guiding him around into a warm embrace, a leg easing around the backs of his knees as he crawled into Jareth's lap.

The Goblin King held his bond mate to him- naked, wounded and broken- and couldn't wrap his mind around what had just happened. All he'd done was go to Toby's room to check on him. Something had begun bothering him as he'd worked in the night, something that told him Toby was upset or in trouble. He'd thought it was only fancy, the bond not being able to transmit emotions. But with the advent of dawn the feeling had only grown worse until it had finally occurred that the fright such as he was feeling was strong, strong enough to rush through even the most tenuous of connections as fiercely as it had. He had heard sounds from behind the door, sounds that gripped his heart in a stone hand that squeezed unmercifully. And what he had seen was enough to explain it all.

He stroked the tangled blond hair as a small nose buried itself into the crook of his neck.

"Ssh, my elf. It'll be all right. I promise you; it will be all right."

Toby's last thought before he went to sleep was that he wasn't worthy of such compassion. It was his fault- all of it. He hadn't fought hard enough. Jareth had said Toby was bonded to him. Therefore Toby had just betrayed the person he was supposed to help and support! He was contaminated and filled with evil and likely he'd infect Jareth too and what was he supposed to do when he hurt so much and nothing felt safe any more?


	9. A Mental MindFuck

﻿ 

Author's Note: Someone asked me whether seventeen was young enough to be called a child. Sorry, I don't have an email address for you. But Toby's actually only about a month past his sixteenth birthday. He's also been rather sheltered by his family. And Jareth is four hundred and fifty- something years old, so there you go. Hope it clears up the doubt.

---------------------------------------------------------

_He stood there- on one side the clear, clean drop of the cliff, on the other a dark figure all shrouded in black. The figure was looking straight at him, strangely luminous in the moonless night. _

_Toby stepped sideways, inching towards the cliff's edge as fear prickled over his skin. He knew this feeling, this figure- he would be hurt again and the thought kept his eyes fixed firmly on his tormentor, fearing the sudden attack that would surely come. And there would be no way he would ever escape it. Just as he would not survive it this time for he knew he would go mad with grief. The very thought made him sick to his stomach.  
_  
Jareth started awake from the light sleep he had fallen into, his back stiff from the constrictive bounds of the chair. He blinked his eyes a few times to clear his vision and then cursed, swiftly and shortly, at the sight of Toby's evident distress. He bounded to his feet and leaned over the boy, touching his shoulder and calling his name.

The blue eyes were wide open, glazed over with some form of nightmare. But it couldn't be a nightmare. Toby wasn't asleep. His breathing was wrong, and the jerking movements of his eyes and fingers meant that he was experiencing something.

He pulled Toby off the bed and into his arms, laying him on the floor for space. Stroking his cheek with the gentlest of touches, Jareth tried to call him into reality, desperate to fight his way into a mind that had already thrown up walls in reaction to a rape. And something was in there, he could tell; the blue eyes were staring with fatal fright in their depths.

Jareth recognized a trance when he saw one.

He began to work a counter-spell.

_"Hello, dear heart," the figure drawled, stepping closer and ever closer. _

_Toby was a step away from the edge. He would choose death if it came down to it. But he didn't want to die. Something was calling him, another of those slender rays of sunlight was glimmering somewhere in his head again and he wondered where it was and what it was trying to tell him. Surely someone would save him? Jareth, maybe? Or his family? He couldn't even delude himself into believing that it was a dream like the last time. It felt too real._

_"You have not answered me!" Clearly his tormentor was angry, prowling only the space of seven paces away with panther-like stealth. "What? Do you think someone will save you? Your bond mate perhaps? Why would he care?"  
_  
_The snide words felt like a kick in the stomach. Toby forgot to breathe for a moment as the air rushed out of his lungs. _

_The figure was standing on the ledge two feet from him, staring down with bored amusement. Dark eyes looked back up at his victim. "Jump then. Your saviour may be spurred into action quicker." _

_One step close. _

_"It would certainly save him from you." _

_Another step closer. _

_"But will it help you? You won't get rid of me so easily. You know where I am, don't you?" _

_A hand reached out to touch a strand of Toby's hair, the boy frozen in fright. _

_"In your pretty little head. I'm always there, dear heart. Jareth thinks he can protect you," a cold finger drew down his cheek, "But I know better. Because I... know... you!" Nails dug deep into flesh and Toby jerked his head back in panic.  
_  
Jareth pressed harder against the boy's mind, applying strength to force the mental blocks away. Toby twisted in his arms. Jareth wondered what he saw seeing that made him writhe and breathe so deeply. This image of him was almost obscene, though cruel. Drops of blood began to fall from a tear in his neck, glittering red on the pale golden skin. Golden, the half-goblin's disoriented mind decided, like honey and twice as sweet. But there was no time for that! Toby was beginning to fall deeper, his eyes turning silver in the flickering candlelight.

_The figure dropped his hand as he laughed a silver note of glee. He tilted his head in a gesture of contemplation that struck a chord of familiarity in Toby's aching brain. But he couldn't think where he had seen it before. _

_"Your poor bond mate knows not the darkness in your soul," the man finally resumed, "Or the poisoned depths of your body..."  
_  
Jareth gripped the thin arms so tight he knew he would leave finger-shaped bruises.

_"Do you think he'll want any part of you now that your innocence is corrupted? Where is the fun in that?"  
_  
It was working! The silver began to fade and blue seeped back into the wide irises. Jareth kept going, putting questions aside for another time.

_"He can't truly love someone like you. He wanted a creature of light and innocence. He wanted the infant he held in his arms. You will only ever satisfy his lust. He can't love you."_

The first soft moan filtered through the room as Toby began to shift- against him too perhaps, but at least it was a step in the right direction. If Toby was able to make a sound, the walls were crumbling.

_Toby found his voice and courage in a quick burst of sunlight that threatened to drown his senses: "That's not true! And if I'm poisoned, it's only because you poisoned me. Get lost! Get out of my head. You don't have any power in here."  
_  
Jareth paused to gather himself.

Toby had been sitting on his own, moaning slightly in his daze as his blue eyes stared inward at a battle Jareth couldn't help with. The half-goblin had drawn back for just a second, had let his power drain down for just a second, and suddenly Toby crumpled to the floor again, his eyes just as silver as at the peak!

_"Such a pity," the figure chuckled, "Because I do have power over your body. Ah well, I'll make do." _

_Suddenly Toby found himself on the ground, a mouth descending savagely to his for a stormy kiss that ripped at his soul and seared through his body with liquid hate. _

"NO!"

Jareth pounced and shook him hard, no longer sparing him as he applied a vigorous blow against the strong walls to shatter them. The body jerked in his arms and the eyes fixed in his direction- "Toby! Toby, come out of it. It's not real, child. It's not real. Listen to me."

The silver faded and those eyes slid closed.

Silver. Jareth cursed himself for not bothering to check the boy's mind, so preoccupied had he been with the body. Whoever it was would be gone by now, and no trace would be left of anything except the black magic that had clearly turned Toby's eyes silver.

"Toby. Wake up. It's over. It's all over now. Wake up."

Toby refused to open his eyes as he felt arms tighten around him. He whimpered and tried to pull away but there was no feeling in his legs, and the rest of him was too weak. He heard a sigh and then felt someone lift him. He scrabbled at the arm cradling his head and felt himself lowered to something soft. Something like a bed!

His eyes shot open.

He was lying in a bed not his own, in a room not his own, loosely covered with a pile of blankets. He wore nothing but a pair of loose trousers that hung low on his narrow hips. It was night and Jareth was leaning over him, panting gently and looking bleary-eyed with tiredness. One weary arm still draped under his neck from where he had lifted him.

Toby sat up, ignoring the pain in his body and head by doing so, and pulled away. He curled himself into as small a ball as he could, his skull splitting with the pressure. His lips still tingled from the brutal kiss; he could still feel it dust over his wide mouth. He felt the hysteria rise up and threaten to choke him as his hands dropped to pick convulsively at the quilt.

"Toby, look at me." Jareth had seen that look before. It came from sheer terror and was not helped by pain. The somewhat warped trust Toby had placed in him over the past day wouldn't mean much after this. Considering everything, the child should well shy away even from him. "He won't have you, my elf; I won't let him."

"No," Toby began, unable to stop plucking at the silk embroidery on the topmost quilt, "No, you should let him. It's fine. He'll take what he wants and it won't hurt so much. Right? It doesn't hurt after a while, right? Maybe he'll just kill me. He said I need to die. He's right, it's the only way. I have to die or he'll get me. You see that, don't you? How it is? I don't mind so much, really I don't. It's fine. You know, right? I've messed up... not worthy. I should go. Need to go... get... something! Don't know what; something... soap for one; so terribly dirty... clothes! No, I won't need them with him, will I?" The mortal let out a high-pitched cackle that ended on a hiccup. "He'll just get me out of them again."

Jareth gaped at this sudden rush of words. If he didn't know better, he'd say Toby had gone insane. "Stop this immediately. Come here." He grabbed Toby by the arm and hauled the wriggling, squirming, shrieking bundle into his lap and held him there until he'd stopped and stilled.

Toby slumped in exhaustion against the hard planes of unyielding flesh. So gloriously hard, he thought dazedly, like walls; safe walls too if those arms were anything to judge by. He should leave; go elsewhere where he wouldn't be in a position to delude anyone. And the Goblin King didn't even like him!

"Sorry," Toby offered softly, "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"I wasn't asleep." The lack of it was making Jareth sound abrupt. He liked his sleep and had missed it for about two nights now.

Toby lifted his head off a hard shoulder and looked around. "Oh," he said blankly, "I- I'm sorry! You should have told me. I could've gone back to my room. I didn't mean to take your bed."

Jareth sighed and shook his head, blue-brown eyes worried and gentle. "I didn't want to move you," he admitted, "Besides, it would be wiser if you did not sleep alone for a few days. In light of your current traumas, I elected to take the chair. It's best not to wake up alone in a strange place."

Toby shuddered as he thought of what that would do to him. Unconsciously he burrowed deeper into Jareth's warmth, nuzzling lightly against the pale neck laid temptingly within reach.

Jareth looked down with raised eyebrows and drew in a sharp breath as Toby's thigh rubbed accidentally against his hip. If anything, Toby's distress had only made him a little more appealing. The Goblin King was so tempted to force the issue- Toby was too confused to say no and really mean it- and mark the child as his again. Whoever had dared rape his bond mate had taken something Jareth jealously regretted losing. And yet the operative word was 'rape'. Moral obligations aside, Toby's body and mind couldn't handle any more.

The Goblin King unceremoniously dumped Toby back into bed and went back to his chair. It was a summer night and quite warm enough for keeping vigil in chairs by the open window. In truth, even if it hadn't been, he wouldn't have had the energy to do more anyway.

"Jareth, I should go." The statement was hesitant and soft.

It made the half-goblin look up with an enquiring frown. "And where would you be going?"

"Aboveground. I don't want to be a burden on you and I've already taken your bed- I mean, for one night- and I've caused so many problems. I thought it would be better to just go."

"No." Jareth leaned his face into his hand and shut his eyes.

Toby stared. No? Did Jareth not see how blind he was being? Toby needed to get away. He needed to leave! And Jareth shouldn't want him to stay. "But..."

"I am not sending you back to the Aboveground like a box of damaged goods," the Goblin King snapped, "I am your bond mate and, by all that's pure, you will take your solace from me."

Toby shrank back, whimpering as the noise smashed through his skull. At any other time he would have fought over the possessive, but the rape proved how weak he was. He'd been unable to protect himself against one determined assault; who said he could protect himself against another? Jareth could probably break him in half with a snap of his white fingers.

"I'm sorry. Put your head back on the pillow and it won't hurt as much. I simply worry for you, my elf. What just happened was no mere nightmare. You were in a trance. Whoever attacked you made an added attempt on your mind. I fear for your mind..."

"He's not there any more!"

Jareth blinked at the emphatic interruption. "Only because he did not press his advantage. Toby, do you know the consequences of that happening? Everything that you are, that you know, become his to command. Can you feel the agony he could have caused you by the fight alone? What you feel now is a taste. Think of this pain prolonged and sharpened, arhythmic so that you never grow used to it. Think of the moment when it reaches the exact point where it grows so large you can't even comprehend what it is you feel."

"But he didn't take my mind," Toby whispered, not looking at him.

Jareth found himself shaken by the way he had upset the already upset mortal. It made him feel... somewhat guilty; an emotion he had never really enjoyed before. "If you would let me call a healer, we would be certain."

"I don't want anyone else poking around me," Toby snapped, pulling the covers tighter.

"Toby, what happened to you was an ugliness no one should have to endure. I am sorry that I shouted but it enrages me to think that such a thing was done in my Castle while you were under my protection."

"Oh, it wasn't your fault!" Toby hadn't interrupted this time but he spoke too quickly. "It was me. I'm to blame. I- I enticed him even though I swear I didn't mean to. I get things so wrong sometimes."

The Goblin King frowned at him. "Enticed him? How do you mean?"

It was clearly not a question Toby had expected to be asked. "I guess I said the wrong thing. Or did the wrong thing. I didn't think."

"I don't understand. You're saying you enticed a man to rape you by saying something that could have been an invitation? I don't recall such behaviour. Is that what he told you?"

"He explained it."

"And you don't think this man can lie?"

Toby didn't choose to answer that. He pressed his cheek into the pillow and shivered. It wasn't a very warm night for him. There were shadows in the room, and one of them lay just behind Jareth himself, lurching ominously across the floor.

"Toby?"

"I didn't act right," Toby whispered, "All of it. I should have fought more."

Jareth tipped his head to the side as he contemplated such a ridiculous notion. "You could have done no more than you did," he asserted confidently.

"But how do you know?" Toby ground out, anxiously raking his fingers through his hair to try and ease some of pain.

Jareth didn't look up this time as he settled back into the chair. "Because I know you," he answered implacably, as if that explained everything.

_'Your poor bond mate knows not the dark depths of your soul, or the poisoned depths of your body...'_

Poisoned. Yes, because Toby was certain he still had traces of the man inside him. Unclean, unclean! Poisoned! How could Jareth even look at him again? Not that Toby wanted him to. He didn't think he could do this sort of thing again. Besides, he wasn't gay and the rape had proved that. "Jareth, was this was you wanted to do to me?"

Jareth considered pretending to be asleep. But that would serve no purpose for either of them. Besides if Toby needed to talk about this- "Not in the least."

Toby considered telling him and plunged on recklessly. "I had this dream about you," he relayed quickly, looking at the dark wood dresser opposite him, "It was just after the feast when you tried to seduce me. And you kept saying these things to me. You told me that you wouldn't wait forever for me to- to submit to you and you said it would be soon or else. And you said you would enjoy me. You said those things and look what happened."

"You heard that?"

"In my dream, yes."

"It doesn't matter. Go to sleep." Jareth shut his eyes again. Only a few hours to sunrise.

"Jareth?"

"I am not a monster," he retorted, eyes snapping open and flashing fire, "I do not rape the innocent if that is what you are afraid of. When I said I would enjoy you, I meant that you would be a part of it. You would not be tied down to a bed and hurt for my pleasure. I would not have ever taken you without your consent. Do you doubt that?"

"Yes."

Both stared at the other, one clearly scared and the other swinging between insult, anger and understanding.

Toby wanted to be back in Jareth's arms, held safe and secure against the world. There was something inside him that soothed instantly at Jareth's touch. He hadn't noticed it before but since the 'incident', he'd needed a lot of soothing and he'd discovered it. But even the thought of being touched again by anyone made him sick to his stomach and if there was ever a chance that Jareth still wanted him in That Way, then soothing be damned. He was staying away from his bond mate for life.

"For as long as you need I will repeat it- I will never hurt you," Jareth vowed, "I have already alerted the entire Palace to seek out anyone who may have entered the Castle yesterday. No, I have not told anyone of your hurt. It is not their concern."

Toby relaxed and lay down.

_'As it stays he will never find me...'  
_  
"You won't find him," the boy mumbled, rolling over onto his right side so he could see the door, "He doesn't want you to."

Jareth would never have admitted it, but that was what he was afraid of. So far no reports had been made of anyone suspicious or out of place. That could mean it was someone within the Castle, but he didn't think so. Toby had said human and the only humans inside were locked into the Ivory Tower. A light whimper sounded from the bed, forcing Jareth to turn from his contemplation of the night sky to his patient. Already fear was throwing its shadows into the boy's face. A little more of this and Toby might forget how to heal himself. And from that would come a slow, painful death. It was a fact of life in the Underground that made things like rape and abuse so very deadly.

And the demon spawn responsible was wielding high levels of black magic. It wasn't traceable; black magic was too impersonal for that. Anyone could have it, and how would he know? Even if he was the more powerful, he couldn't punish someone he couldn't find. And he wouldn't find this someone if they were half-way to intelligent, which they clearly were. This little threat with the trance and the mind games said so.

Stopping to place a chaste kiss on his bond mate's cheek, the Goblin King assumed bird-form and set out to ask the creatures of the Labyrinth for news.


	10. Food and Family

﻿ 

A week. A week since That Night and Toby woke up with the touch of lightness in his heart once more. Somewhere in his mind he had remembered a far-away time when he hadn't been hurting and shamed, hadn't been broken and left to question everything he'd ever thought was real. And now that part of him stirred softly back to life once more.

Of course, it might have had a lot to do with the fact that he had just woken up in the arms of someone who cared.

Toby turned his head and grinned slightly, blushing just a little as he pulled himself off Jareth's shoulder. He could just picture the Goblin King's self-satisfied smugness if he were to wake up and see Toby still perched in his lap, his head on his shoulder and his arms around his neck. But then Jareth wasn't awake just yet, thank God.

Toby levered himself carefully out of the firm grasp, holding his breath as the arms tightened their hold for an instant before letting go. He had grown used to the prickles of fear that accompanied such manoeuvres; the comfort that Jareth offered far outweighed the natural dislike for contact.

And breakfast that morning seemed just as inordinately alive as well. For one thing because the Goblin King had finally gotten a full night's sleep and another because Toby had not been visited by his terrors for a week to the date. The injuries had healed mostly, except for the obviously most terrible one and even that was less painful, or so Toby said. Jareth could only be glad nothing was infected or festering. He'd tried to persuade the boy to let him call Arienne. He'd sworn to the healer's secrecy himself, even if he didn't tell Toby that Arienne might be able to trace the presence in his head. The bastard hadn't visited Toby for a week and the Goblin King was reasonably certain that Toby was now safe. He'd never left him alone for a moment! Anyone would be mad to make another attempt and risk discovery.

In the bright sunlight, both returned to better spirits.

The entire meal was spent with Toby discovering a cake of the Underground, much to Jareth's amusement. Jamelia was quickly being put on a list of National Goblin Treasures. Toby was insisting on meeting her. As Jareth knew how much Jamelia loved people who ate her food, he was willing to bet that the little old goblin lady would be asking to see his guest herself before another meal was over.

"Slowly, my elf," he admonished, the nickname now the most common address for his bond mate, "You make me think I've been starving you."

Toby gave a grin and shook his head, taking the time to chew. Once he had swallowed and licked his lips in appreciation, he could talk. "I feel better this morning. Well, at least I'm hungry. And this stuff is good! What is it?"

Jareth stared critically at the light purple glob of cake-like substance on Toby's plate and cocked his head in concentration. "It's a Lady cake," he said finally, "Quite close to your sponge cake except it's moister, and made with glory berries."

"Glory berries?" Toby poked at the cake on his plate, "And why do you eat sponge cake for breakfast?"

Jareth picked up a bunch of deep purple ovals that looked a bit like grapes. "These are glory berries," he said, "And my menus are eccentric. I order whatever comes to mind. So much so that I no longer order and Jamelia simply makes me whatever she feels like. It's usually pastry as you can see."

Toby made an appropriate sound of interest and fell to eating again.

In truth, he felt the stirrings of happiness in him again. He briefly wondered where Hoggle was. The dwarf had come to keep him company the other day and been very upset to find Toby in one of his worst depressions. Jareth had explained it away as sickness and Hoggle had thankfully kept his distance. Had even one hand been laid on him, Toby would have screamed till his throat bled. And poor Kyfrem had been so excited to see him again this morning that the goblin valet had insisted on rigging him out in the most ridiculous suit of clothes ever- blue silk! He'd only worn it so as not to hurt his feelings.

He took the chance to stare out of the windows of the dining hall, carried away on the soft murmurs of the goblins around him as he admired the view from the large windows.

Sarah had often spoken of the Underground, and the Labyrinth in particular, but to actually see it winding and twisting its way around the Goblin City was magnificent. He could just make out the tiny figures trotting around from point to point and content with their lives. Faintly he heard a heard a song of mischief waft from one wooded section that Jareth said was the habitat of the Fieries.

"Can we go see the Labyrinth?" he asked eagerly, selecting one of the many pitchers and pouring out what looked like orange juice.

Jareth was rolling a peach in his fingers with a dreamy look in his eyes when the question came. He fixed a pair of startled blue-brown eyes on the questioner. "Pardon?"

"The Labyrinth," Toby reminded him, "Can we see it?"

Jareth opened his mouth and shut it again. He'd been thinking of Sarah and the ball when Toby broke into his thoughts. "I don't think the Labyrinth is a good idea," he cautioned, tossing the peach carelessly over his shoulder where it startled a goblin by landing in his soup, "But we can certainly go exploring in and around the Castle."

"But your Majesty," a goblin guard broke in, "You have to meet with someone important today!"

"Who is it this time?" Jareth growled, "Never mind; get rid of them. And if you wish to keep your hands firmly affixed to your body, don't dare question me again."

The goblin gulped and stepped back with a bow and a subdued, "Yes, Your Majesty." Toby winked at the little thing and saw it smile. He turned sweetly innocent blue eyes to meet Jareth's stern glare and saw the goblin guard start to laugh into his hand at the charade.

Breakfast done, the two left to go back to their respective rooms. Toby was getting the distinct feeling that he couldn't go exploring in silk. What he needed, in short, were jeans and an old shirt. But that would mean... he stopped outside his original bedroom and eyed the door suspiciously.

Jareth stopped behind him and folded his arms. "It's only a room," he reminded the child.

Toby took a deep breath and pushed open the simple wooden structure. He raised his eyes off the floor and relaxed. The room was empty. The bed was made with fresh linen and his things had been settled back into order. The sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the stone floor and the fur rug still beckoning for his cold feet to be warmed by the bed. Nothing was left of the horror that Toby remembered.

Arms slid around his waist from the back and a soft cheek rested against his hair. He had one panic-stricken moment and then the smell of pine and smoke reassured him.

"You need never re-enter this room again," the Goblin King promised, "But it is only a room. Your memories are now the only evidence left of that night. Your room has been cleaned. In time you will be able to do the same for your memories too."

Toby sighed and leaned back against the warmth behind him. Never mind that he wasn't gay. He had come to think that he didn't care. He had clambered over and touched every part of this older male and been touched in his turn with gentleness and control. Jareth was a good man; that was enough.

Jareth for his part was breathing in the unique scent of Toby's hair. It still smelt like something he wouldn't mind being buried in. But the thoughts in his head were anything but good and he was

firmly of the opinion that if Toby knew exactly what he would like to do with that golden hair, the mortal would spring out of his arms and likely go into a fit. But oh, how was it possible to think otherwise when the boy was lithe and pliant in his arms, his back rising and falling against Jareth's chest with each regular breath.

Without thinking another thing, the fae leaned closer and pressed a kiss into the soft skin of Toby's neck. Startled, he waited for the protests and fear, waited for Toby to wrench himself out of his arms and turn suspicious blue eyes on him.

Nothing happened. Toby simply made a soothed sound in his throat and stayed where he was.

Hesitantly Jareth did it again.

This time Toby moved, but not to leave, no. He simply shifted his head so that more of his neck and face was exposed to Jareth's mouth.

The fae wanted to stop, he truly did. But the golden body. He hadn't thought the child would be ready so soon or so easily, but if he was getting this close... he lowered his head and dropped tiny kisses over the taunt skin of Toby's throat, allowing only the tip of his tongue to taste the warm salt.

Toby had no idea why this was suddenly all right. But Jareth's kisses weren't rough or wet, and so far the caresses had been... interesting. He sat down firmly on the little voice telling him over and over that he was a pervert for even enjoying this and let the gentle moment carry him away, far-away to a land of sunlight and moon shadows.

Arms tightly around the narrow waist, pulling the small body backwards and further into Jareth. Apart form an instant move to take his backside out of any direct contact with Jareth's body, the boy permitted it, even going so far as to run a timid finger down one of Jareth's arms to his hand.

Jareth let out a groan as those fingertips ghosted over his hand. Damn it, did the child have to become like a drug in his veins? It simply wasn't fair!

He moved his mouth over the slender jaw, licking softly at the bone and placing a little nip on the lightly stubbled skin over it.

Toby heard himself giggle- actually giggle- at the almost ticklish feeling he got. Jareth's rough chuckle followed, a sound so similar to the rich gloating he'd heard in his dreams that he almost panicked. But the touches remained delicate and tender.

Finally, when he couldn't bear such games any longer- because generally he never had to wait on his partner's pleasure- Jareth stroked his hands up the thin torso before slowly turning the mortal around to face him, gazing down at eyelashes that fluttering maddeningly, so blond they were almost invisible.

The eyelashes rose, Toby looked up and Jareth caught his breath with awe. Blue eyes were now electric, darkened and ever so slightly glazed with growing desire. Realizing he had better end this, the fae placed a single kiss on Toby's lips before releasing him.

Toby blinked. That was all? Why was Jareth moving away? He wondered fretfully if he'd done something wrong. Was it something he'd forgotten to do? "Jareth?"

The Goblin King looked back and cursed inwardly. It seemed to be becoming a habit. Toby looked like a lost child, and a slow-witted one at that. The Toby before the rape would have fought against him, or fought for him. And in that one fact lay everything that was wrong. "You are not ready," he said simply, "And I won't take advantage of your weakened condition."

A flare of irritation greeted his words and Toby straightened his shoulders with a huff. "You make it sound like I've been knocked up. Don't keep wrapping me up in cotton-wool and making my decisions for me. I hate that!"

Jareth smiled for the first time, a delighted, wicked, scheming smile. His dark brows rose in mock surprise. "Is that so," he purred, "Perhaps I should have kept going? For someone who is not gay, you seemed to quite enjoy my caresses."

Toby sniffed. "They were okay, I guess," he muttered, going a little red and sheepish, "I just wanted to know what it would feel like so don't flatter yourself."

Jareth gave a short bow and left, laughing quietly under his breath. "Brat," was his parting shot, "Come to my chambers when you are dressed and ready for our expedition."

Toby stared in exasperated petulance at the door. Brat, indeed! He made for his closet, stripping off his clothes on the way and sighing happily as he clambered in his jeans. Raising a hand to his chin where the skin still tingled from Jareth's nibble, he discovered a shocking state of affairs- he really needed to shave! Sure he didn't get much more than blond fuzz but at least he wasn't such a complete eunuch. Eunuch! Gay! Oh God, he'd kissed a guy!

Jareth was quite prepared for Toby to look embarrassed when he sidled into the room an hour later. But the change of clothes had done him some good. He looked more rested and comfortable now and as for the rest... Jareth almost salivated at the sight of the newly softened skin on the mortal's face. He gave himself a swift lecture on the indecency of lecherous behaviour and ignored his own urges. "Which parts do you want to see?" he asked, leading the way back into the corridor and strolling down the stone passageway.

Toby shrugged, still trying to figure out why he had let Jareth kiss him. Sure the fae was good-looking, especially those eyes and that mouth- No! He was not going to think about that!

"Toby?"

Apparently they had stopped because he'd just had that conversation with himself out loud. Oh God! Jareth was leaning against the wall and smirking at him. Toby hid his face in his hands and groaned in despair.

The Goblin King chuckled and shook his head. "Flattered as I am, what exactly are you not going to think about?"

Toby peeped out from between his fingers and shook his head pleadingly. He really didn't want to be having this conversation.

And so woebegone did he look that Jareth sighed and apparated the both of them down to his garden. He usually found it the best place to have conversations of this kind. "Sit down," he motioned, pointing to a stone bench in the sun, "Now, I'm not quite sure what you aren't going to think about but if something troubles you, then I hope you will let me help."

Toby's hands had long since dropped so he looked absently over Jareth's left shoulder and nodded. He opened his mouth and tried to think of how best to put it- "I don't know what to think," he finally settled on.

Jareth looked appropriately confused. "About what, my elf?"

Toby pointed between the both of them. "Us," he answered succinctly, "If there's an 'us' anywhere around, that is. You know, one minute we're fighting and you threaten me and there's all these weird dreams, and then I get hurt and you act like you really care about that and- and then we're kissing. I keep telling you- I'm not gay! I don't get attracted to other men. At least, before the... 'thing', I didn't."

"The bond makes you more open emotionally to a person," Jareth pointed out, "I told you that in the beginning. I care for you because you're in pain and I can see how it affects you. You respond to me because I seem to understand."

"So all of this comes down to the bond and hormones?" It sounded vaguely disquietening when Toby put it like that. "So you care because the bond makes you care. And I let you kiss me because I'm confused and grateful and mixed-up. Huh!"

"No!" Jareth tried to think of another way to explain it. "The bond encourages us to turn to each other. But it cannot manipulate feelings. I care for you because I do. You're an innocent and a child; rape is something you should never have experienced. I wish to protect you from any more harm."

"And me?" Toby tried not to sound wistful. He didn't want to kiss Jareth. He didn't! He didn't! At least he hadn't until Jareth had kissed him

Jareth stared moodily at a dark green shrub with small blue flowers. "I don't know." He turned back to look at his bond mate. "You should know your own motives. Why did you let me? Especially after what happened?"

Toby decided that the dark green shrub was interesting too. But the feathery little balls of petals were too bright in the strong sunshine and he looked away. "When that guy... did those things to me, it hurt. Badly! But this didn't. Your kisses weren't trying to devour me whole, or force me into anything; they just tasted me. I didn't mind them. And you didn't try and touch me or anything. I hadn't had that before."

Jareth nodded. He was fairly glad the conversation wasn't being peppered with vows of undying love. He'd been slightly afraid of that, given recent events. "And so you let me go on. Why did you let me start in the first place?"

Sitting side by side and with Jareth's knee almost touching his, Toby felt a bit like some ridiculous heroine in a romance novel. "I, uh, wanted to know what it would be like," he mumbled.

"Sounds reasonable," Jareth commented, getting to his feet and giving a quick cat-like stretch of his long limbs, "You've never kissed another man before. You felt curious and let me kiss you. It's natural."

"But Jareth, I still don't understand..."

A blue eye and a brown eye turned to him- one reflecting the sky, the other reflecting the earth- and both offered him compassion. Toby felt his breath hitch as something in his blood began to dance. The sunlight burned the back of his neck and he had one moment of wishing Jareth's cool lips would touch him there just once more. "I would never have done it before," the mortal pleaded, getting up to walk to his bond mate, needing the comfort of his touch for where his mind was going. "That man lay on top of me and- and... did things, horrible things. But- but they were exactly what any other gay guy would have done to me. What if it's made me strange, or- or mad, or what if this thing- what he did- is the only reason I got curious?"

Jareth pulled off his gloves and let his fingers trail over Toby's features. They were delicate and ethereal, with big eyes in a heart-shaped face and mysterious hollows in the smooth cheeks. High brows arched in dark blond over eyes with lashes so pale and fine they were almost invisible. Toby shivered at his touch but seemed to lean into it.

"What happened to you, my elf, was rape," Jareth said clearly, closely watching the resultant flinch, "You were raped and it was horrible. It will change you; it would change anyone! But it will not, and cannot, turn you gay. It has forced you to trust me, however; so let your walls down around me. That's all."

Toby nodded and bit his lip in the nervous habit had developed, looking down as if ashamed.

Jareth opened his mouth to say something when a shout sounded from quite near. Swallowing a particularly pungent expletive, he dropped his hand to look to the approaching person. Suddenly he broke into a genuine smile and waited with his hands clasped behind his back for the being to draw nearer.

Toby composed his face to as expressionless a mask as possible and then got the shock of his life. The man walking towards them was, for want of a better word, gorgeous. His fair skin shone with an almost translucent sheen and his dark hair fell around it in uneven strands, just as Jareth's did; only his was longer and streaked with ice-blue. He was tall and broad- shouldered, his torso narrowing to slim hips and perfectly sculpted legs. He was dressed seemingly simply in blue tunic and light tan breeches, but to Toby's mind, he looked like some kind of lesser deity.

Jareth let out a glad cry in the Old Language and went to meet him, clasping hands as if meeting a long lost friend. They conversed in that language for a while until a pair of spaniel-brown eyes lit on Toby's dropped jaw.

Then Jareth brought him over. "Toby, this is a cousin of mine- Archer. He is a nobleman of the Fae Court but we don't usually hold that against him."

"Careful, cousin," the stranger laughed, "You dishonour my Queen. As her Ambassador I should retaliate. That in itself will start a war!"

"Then by all means let us never mention the woman," Jareth retorted, "Archer, this is Toby Williams." A gentle finger eased Toby's dropped lower jaw closed.

Archer didn't seem put out by such an intense stare, but nodded reservedly. "How do you do," he murmured formally.

"Very well," Toby answered thoughtlessly, still staring.

"Toby, you really must overcome this urge to stare," Jareth whispered to him.

"It is no matter, Jareth," Archer said quickly, "It is the Fae Effect. Do you not have it?"

Jareth growled and shook his moon-blond head. "Not to such a high extent. I'm afraid people call me queer more than beautiful."

That snapped Toby out of it. Of course Jareth was beautiful! Who could possibly think otherwise? And queer? Well, all right, the hair was unusual and the feline grace was a little overmuch, but beautiful all the same. Toby opened his mouth to say so but thought better of it.

"They would be right by all accounts," Archer teased, his full lips twitching at the corners as he turned to Toby, "I really must be allowed to present my felicitations on your bond."

Jareth shook his head quickly but the words were said. Toby's eyes widened but he didn't seem too embarrassed. Indeed, he seemed rather relieved that Archer knew. There was a very pleasant blush creeping over the boy's ears. "We're not quite sure yet, Archer," Jareth cautioned, hoping the fairy would get the message, "The bond is there, as I told you, but we're still learning our way."

Archer nodded and peered closer. "Your Goblin Babe," he mused aloud, "You've chosen well, cousin. He is stunning."

Toby was now feeling distinctly uncomfortable. This man was speaking of him as if he were a horse, born and bred to be shown off. He almost expected him to check his teeth and legs next. "Thank you," he said quellingly, "But in case you didn't know, Jareth didn't choose at all. It was an accident."

Archer raised an eyebrow at the gentle slap on the wrist. "I see," he commented coolly, "Spirited too. But then you always did detest passive types. Is he this fiery between the sheets?"

There was dead silence. Toby's jaw dropped again at the unbelieve cheek of the fairy Lord. Jareth, for his part, was perplexed. His cousin, fairy or not, was ill-bred to anyone. Indeed, Jareth was usually the one making the cruel taunts. The silence was solved when Toby excused himself- "I'm sure you have business to discuss and I want to go exploring. Jareth, I'll see you back at the Castle." He didn't deign Archer with so much as a glance but the fierce dislike was wafting off his trembling shoulders in waves.

"Don't lose yourself," Jareth instructed distractedly, "Here! Take this in case you need me." He tossed him a crystal and waited until his bond mate was out of earshot before turning to look a cold enquiry at his cousin. "What was that?"

"I merely asked a question. My pardon if he is offended." Archer shrugged dismissively at first but broke into a rueful smile when Jareth continued to glare. "I am sorry, cousin. Apologize on my behalf. It is a bad business I come for and my nerves are pulled too tight."

Relaxing enough to nod once, the two got down to business, making their way to the Castle deep in discussion of Inter-State Affairs.


	11. Bloodletting

﻿ 

Author's Note: Someone asked if the Fairy Queen was Mab. She is not. She is my own creation- sorry!- and everything to do with her is from my insane little brain. My apologies if it confused anyone.

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By late evening, the talks had finished. Business had been discussed and Jareth had resigned himself to writing a thinly-veiled apology to Queen Amarild for calling her certain names that no lady wished to be called. He had submitted to his cousin's chastisements with good grace, banishing all self-satisfied smirks from his face as Archer spoke at length of the Fairy Queen's reaction. Then the talk had switched to other, more interesting things- Toby, for one.

"Things seem to be better than the last time I visited, cousin," Archer probed, reclining in an armchair while Jareth perched precariously on the window ledge, "I take it the situation is becoming better?"

Jareth shrugged guardedly. He did not want to involve Archer in the litany of the wrongs done to his bond mate. And frankly, he felt it more as an insult to his own honour than anything else. "He thinks of me as a friend," he evaded.

Delicate eyebrows arched over warm brown eyes. "An improvement, then," the fairy Lord quirked, "And do you make it a habit to sleep with all your friends? Had I but known, Jareth, our time might have been better spent through the centuries. After all, we're both lonely men in the darkness of a room."

Jareth laughed and shook his head, leaping from his seat and coming forward to sit on the armrest of Archer's chair. "Bed my only cousin? Do you not think my subjects would disapprove?"

"They have disapproved of all your lovers before," Archer stated. When the darkness threatened to intrude, he lightened the tone by teasing, "Particularly Henry."

Jareth did brighten. "Ah, Henry... now she was interesting. A right royal pain, and as selfish as a bitch in heat, but interesting. Her tongue was a rare delight."

Archer ran a hand through Jareth's hair. "I know," he reminded his cousin, "You gave her to me for my birthday one year. Myself, I did not like her independence. And she was far too forward for my tastes; wouldn't stay still when asked, if you understand my meaning."

Like a cat the Goblin King seemed to be losing himself in the soft strokes over his hair and shoulders. Archer could almost imagine the contented purring humming deep in the other male's chest. He hid a grin, but continued- "And your Toby?"

The spell broke. Mismatched eyes opened and Jareth stiffened his spine. "He has a delightful tongue too, but of an entirely different sort," the blond admitted, a humourless smile on his face, "It knows no tricks and sets no traps, but somehow... his spirit, Archer. He is strong as a fortress and fragile as glass."

Before Archer could comment, Jareth had bounded off the armrest and retreated back to the window, not noticing the slightly odd look on his cousin's face. "No," the Goblin King corrected, summoning a crystal, "No, like a crystal. He has such capacity! One can pour so much into him and he will become the most beautiful thing this world has ever seen. But push him too far..." His face set in a decidedly grim mask, he pushed a touch too much power into the vessel and blew it apart, raining thinnest shards all over his hands and boots, shards so thin they dissolved on contact with anything solid.

Archer shifted uncomfortably. "Do you plan on pushing him too far?"

"I do not need to," Jareth growled, staring out the window and feeling annoyed because he was concerned. Had it been any of his past romances, he would not have bothered. It wasn't that Toby was incapable, but this was bigger than him and the boy's mind wasn't healed just yet. And the feeling throbbed harshly within him like a foreign piece of grit in a wound rubbed open. "And he is out after dark! The Gods protect him, I shall kill him when he finally comes home!"

"Jareth, you did give the child a crystal," the amused fairy Lord reminded him, "Had anything untoward happened, he would have summoned you."

Jareth shook his head slowly, so slowly, not wanting to admit what he knew. "You do not know the child. He has had a bad experience and the shock of it has weakened his sense. If something frightened him, he would likely run wild rather than call for help."

"Can the bond not feel for him?"

"No. No, it is too fragile, too general. It was forged when he was but a babe and we never met until a few weeks ago, how could it be specific? I can feel nothing from him but the strongest of emotions. And even those I can only feel when he submits to the night, Archer. It is not night yet and I am worried for him."

Jareth didn't like this uncharacteristic urge to worry. Toby was strong and healing faster than most others would have. His mind was still intact and now that the shock had worn off, he could surely think clearly enough to protect himself. Jareth did not worry for him as he had over the past week or so. He had work; he had the Labyrinth to complete; he had chores to do and while he hated doing them he hated this restless anxiety even more.

"Stay here," he snapped, his patience worn away as the clock struck eight, "I'll go find him myself."

The fairy made no move or sound of dissent, but let Jareth have his way, watching the white owl flutter into the darkening sky with darkening eyes. He smiled softly, clearly amused at what he was witnessing, and shut his eyes in contemplation.

Jareth, however, was keeping his eyes open and focused, flying low and scanning the area around his Castle as if searching for the proverbial needle in the haystack. Finally he spotted a glimpse of blond hair... swimming?

Toby was splashing happily in the little lake he'd found. To his mind, it had been a bit of luck running into Hoggle like that. The dwarf had talked of Sarah for hours, wanting to know everything about her. It had saddened him for a while too, especially since he had missed her wedding and would probably miss the rest of her life. He wistfully thought of a nephew- maybe with Sarah's dark hair and Ben's open grin? But he didn't like dwelling on things like that; he was only glad that none of his family had witnessed what had happened to him. They'd have hated him for sure. But they didn't need to know and since he was stuck here, the least he felt he could do was enjoy the shallow end of the little lake- guaranteed free from nasty surprises. So he splashed happily and sang as loudly as he could.

The first thing he noticed about his bond mate was that the latter was not an appreciative audience to his musical talent. The second was that Jareth was glaring at him with a face as black as a thundercloud.

"Er... hi, Jareth."

" What are you doing here?" Jareth demanded

"Swimming," Toby answered. He was going to say more but something struck him as odd.

Jareth stifled an inappropriate condemnation of mortal youths who played in lakes when they were meant to be safely in their bond mate's Castle so as not to send said bond mate insane with needless worry. He settled for a more sedate, "Are you aware that the sun has set?"

"Well, gee! However could I have missed that?" Toby teased, but the words were less light than before. He wasn't paranoid; there really was something hovering in the air and he could feel it! His muscles were tightened and his nerves on fire with anticipation. This feeling was never good.

"Toby, will you please come here and get dressed? I have waited for your return quite long enough!"

"Well, turn your back then! Goblin King or not, I'm sure you can give me a little privacy. I'm a little, um, underdressed." Toby tried to keep up his spirits, but they were sinking like the smooth pebbles beneath his toes. He didn't like the humming that was filling his mind, or the sharp little prickles in the fabric of his thoughts. The sooner he got out of the water, the better. The sooner he could get to Jareth, the more safe he would feel. God, he needed to get out of there, even if Jareth didn't turn his back. It didn't matter! It didn't matter! He had to get out of the water.

Jareth's eyes narrowed as blue ones fought for focus, icy-cold fear gripping his innards as they lost concentration and the blond head shook as if trying to refuse something or dislodge a particular thought. Alarmed, he stepped closer to the edge of the water, a hand outstretched in desperation- "Toby, get out of there! Come here; come to me, my elf. Let's go home. Toby, leave the water!"

_'Leaving so soon? What are you wearing, dear heart? Nothing? My, my, what an erotic thought! Well, then. Step forward, dear heart. Let me see you naked by the light of the moon. I could not enjoy such a sight the last time we met..._'

The change in Toby's face was so instant as to be frightening. He froze, his pupils dilated even as his eyes began to dart around.

The water was already waist-deep but suddenly he began to walk backwards to the deeper middle, going further and further until the water reached his shoulders. He couldn't get out, now. His rapist was here. His rapist would see. The only cover was the water and he couldn't get out!

Jareth's panic was back full-force. How could this be happening while he stood right there? And Toby was going in too deep with no thought. If he stumbled and went under... Jareth had sickening visions of Toby panicking. "Toby, stop! Don't go any further. Stop!"

Toby faltered, frozen and shivering, his head in bewilderment as two voices called to his mind. One was deep and rich, whispering obscenities in his thoughts and the other- oh, those slender rays of sunlight that always seemed just out of reach and vision! He shook his head again, the wet ends trailing in the water.And Jareth knew that look of abject fear; Toby wore it when he heard The Voices.

Jareth followed him, standing where the water was waist high and holding out his hand. "Listen to me," he said quietly, "He is only in your head. You don't have to listen to him; listen to me. Come back. We'll find him together. I'll keep you safe. Come on, Toby. He can't touch you now."

_'Go on! Your Saviour waits for you, glinting in the darkness like a beacon, like a lighthouse to your storm-tossed ship. He doesn't know you're already shipwrecked._'

Slowly moving as if physically fighting an opposing force, Toby took first one step, then the next. A hand slowly reached for the white one outstretched towards him. A few steps more and long fingers gripped his wrist and pulled him gently against a hard chest.

Toby began to gasp, sobbing dryly with no tears as he struggled to maintain his control. The darkness was creeping in again and it wrapped around his soul with a seductive fist and called to him so sweetly, even while it repulsed him with every fiber of his being. That voice in his head-

_'But I do! I've tasted you, touched you, spilled my seed within you...'  
_  
Toby whimpered, burrowing deeper into Jareth's shirt. Jareth's hands were sliding down his back, soothing him, touching him. No! Jareth mustn't touch him!

He pulled away with an animal cry, scrambling to the bank and falling to his knees. Poisoned! There was poison inside him; he was unclean! Poison was in his blood, in his hair, in his mouth, seeping from his very pores! He began to spit and retch, raking and ripping at his bared flesh with his nails. Blood welled up and blossomed from deep scratches on his arms and shoulders.

Jareth made for the bank and yanked the thin arms away, cringing as a piercing scream rose into the air.

"Stop it," he shouted, at his wits end and trying to get some kind of sense into the mortal's head.

_'Frigid bitch! Who cares for your pleasure? You weren't meant for any!'_

Toby struggled like a wild cat, unseeing and unknowing of anything except his need to get away.

_'I can still feel you under me, laid open and writhing. Your blood smelt so beautiful. The next time... oh, the next time, dear heart!'_

No! Next time? Death! Toby would die in shame and pain if there were ever a next time, if he ever had this man's seed in him ever again. He wouldn't survive! He couldn't possibly survive being that thing again, bound and chained as if he was nothing but a toy. No! He couldn't! He couldn't! He...

Jareth caught the slight body as it slumped, his own shirt ripped off one shoulder and a vivid set of deep red gashes in the exposed skin. He was panting, dazed. Who knew the boy had so much strength?

Toby had gone pale, a grey pallor blooming under his light golden tan. Suddenly his face seemed too small, his eyes too big even when they were closed. In unconsciousness, his body was draped almost bonelessly in its enforced position.

Jareth hurriedly lowered him to the ground, magicking his clothes onto him and chaffing his wrists. "Toby," he called softly, "Come on, my elf. Toby? Wake up. Come on, open your eyes. It's over. I'm here. It's all over and you're safe."

Toby shook his head, coming out of his dead faint slowly as he was pulled from blissful oblivion to shuddering pain. Somewhere in his gut he hurt, and his throat burned, and his head hurt. One of his fingers felt twisted at the knuckle.

"No," he murmured, weakly trying to shrink away, "Poisoned!"

"Poisoned? Who's poisoned?" Jareth was beginning to think he was going mad from the trauma. Arienne would need to be called now, certainly. Toby couldn't say 'no' after this, could he? Jareth had let him make that decision but he wouldn't have the boy's insanity on his hands.

"Me," the boy whispered, "Don't touch... 'm not good."

"I will touch and you are not poisoned," Jareth said firmly, "We need to get back. Can you walk?"

Toby had his eyes shut but he nodded and sat up. His first step, however, had him almost pitching face-first to the ground. Jareth said nothing but compressed his lips and picked him up. His bond mate was suffering, whimpering like a kicked puppy. Jareth held him close and apparated back.

Archer was reading when Jareth burst into the library with Toby in his arms. The fae dropped the book with a start and jumped to his feet. "By the Gods, what happened?"

"Get brandy," Jareth ordered breathlessly, laying his small bundle on the nearest table. Turning, he shouted for a goblin servant. "One of your get in here right now!"

There was a general scuffle at the door and then a thin, scarecrow of a goblin with a beaky nose and torn jerkin fell inside, getting hurriedly to his feet and bending so far forward with a bow that his sparse hair brushed the floor.

Archer wasn't paying attention. He held a snifter of brandy and was standing over Toby, looking down at him.

"A blanket and a- a... oh hell, bring me twenty blankets." Deciding that he couldn't think straight, Jareth resorted to snarling. To relieve his anger that such a thing had happened again, the Goblin King lobbed a viciously accurate crystal at the open fireplace where it burst into a blaze so huge, it blew halfway across the room and almost singed everyone else.

"Do not burn the Castle down," Archer said softly.

Jareth looked like he might hit him for that remark but didn't react. Merely taking the brandy and tipping a few drops into Toby's mouth. Toby spluttered, but swallowed, assisted by slender fingers that gently stroked and massaged his throat. He consented to three more sips before refusing anything more to sink back under that delightful wave of blackness.

Jareth caressed him and soothed him until he fell into an exhausted sleep. Then he permitted no sound until the blankets were brought and two wrapped securely around his bond mate.

Archer stood to the side and watched the Goblin King at work. That Jareth was furious was obvious- it was in every clipped order on his tongue, every blazing glance from his mismatched eyes, or precise movement of his hands. Jareth was never more controlled than when he was beyond angry into furious.

And despite the clear distress of the pretty mortal, Archer was quite amused to see his cousin in the throes of love.


	12. Initiation into Darkness

﻿ 

Author's Note: I know there's a difference between 'fairy' and 'fae', but for this fic they refer to the same magical creature. Sorry, but I have no knowledge of anything magical and so I'm not going to change twelve chapters' worth of errors. Therefore, Jareth is actually half-fae and Archer is a pure blood. But when it's just Toby and Jareth, then I simply shorten Jareth's heritage to fae.

Author's Note2: Thank you to all my wonderful reviewers. One, for telling me that she likes my writing. The other two for telling me that this is the best Labyrinth slash fic on the internet. You have no idea how happy you made me- I bounded around the room like Tigger on speed for four whole hours because of you!

Author's Note3: Having recently updated this story, I find myself updating the notes too. There is a very real difference between 'fairy' and 'fae'. I am trying to change the chapters to use the term 'fairy', but in case I miss one- as I'm sure I will- then please be aware that any 'fae' is meant to be 'fairy'.

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Toby opened his eyes to a sardonically handsome face staring down at him. A pair of spaniel-brown eyes blinked almost coldly at him but the perfect mouth was soft and compassionate.

At the moment, Toby didn't give a fig leaf for compassion.

He leapt to the other side of the bed like a shot, dragging the covers up and getting ready to scream the walls down.

"Toby, it's all right," Archer soothed, getting hurriedly off the bed and stepping away, "I won't hurt you. I promise."

Toby's eyes flicked to the door and back again, but his defensive posture stayed intact. There was no hint of recognition in his blue eyes and Archer found himself staring at those eyes in awe-struck wonder. The boy simply didn't trust anyone at the moment.

"Jareth asked me to stay with you," Archer tried.

It did the trick and Toby sat back down on the bed and took deep breathes. "Jareth?" he echoed softly, needing to clarify his facts.

Archer nodded. He studied the unguarded face before him, watching as Toby hauled the quilt closer around him as if he was too cold to bear anything. The fairy lord had intended not to get involved, but such pain was simply too much- "Jareth told me what happened."

Toby's head snapped up, untied blond hair falling into his face as he listened in open horror. He cringed back, waiting to hear the derision and the blame. After all, why did he deserve any sympathy; he was a worthless toy, nothing more.

"Toby, you must not fear me. Why would I hurt the bond mate of a good friend?"

"I- I thought you were cousins?"

Broad shoulders shrugged. "We are. But fairies have little emotion for family beyond a sense of duty and respect. We hold friends to a higher esteem. Therefore Jareth is a good friend. It is awkward, but workable."

Toby climbed back into bed, making sure to keep covered. His body was so cold, and protesting his recent burst of movement. A cut on his shoulder in particular throbbed rather painfully. Archer must have noticed because he went to the dresser opposite the bed and came back with the little carved wooden box of healing stuff that Jareth had used on him before.

"You can apply this yourself," the dark-haired fairy ceded, "Or else relax and let me help? Either way you will be more comfortable when your wounds are treated."

"How did... was I attacked again?" Oh God, no! He didn't feel like he'd been touched again and he wasn't hurt in that kind of way so far as he could tell. But he couldn't remember the previous evening and his body felt so sore and painful that if that man had... if he had so much as looked at him again...

"No, no," Archer soothed quickly, waving a warrior's hand at such fears, "No, I'm afraid your injuries were by your own hands. Jareth went to find you and reached you moments before you had a fit. Apparently you were talking of being poisoned and trying to tear your own flesh. When Jareth tried to stop you, you fought him. Do you not remember?"

"Hell, no! Did I- no I couldn't have- did I hurt him?"

Archer did not answer. He couldn't very well do so without inflicting more self-pain on the child. He was not accustomed to strong hysterics; the fairy folk deemed such displays of strong emotions unseemly and perfectly ill-bred.

"I hurt Jareth?"

Archer looked up just in time to see the young man with the suffering in his eyes turn into a frightened, terrified child. Toby went paler than he already was, biting on his lip to counter-act the stubborn tears pricking at the back of his eyes.

"It was nothing but a scratch," he said hurriedly, "Doubtless it is healing as we speak." Toby swallowed and forced himself to stop acting ridiculous. He was strong enough and so was Jareth. He certainly hadn't killed the Goblin King. "It's time we did the same for you," Archer added.

Be brave, the mortal yelled at himself, the guy is practically family and he's being nice; you can let him help. Toby sat up and let the covers pool around his waist, so confused by recent events and the perfection of his aid that he was ashamed of his own body as he peeled off his shirt. Long fingers with calloused tips gently spread the cool ointment over his sore arms. But Toby shifted uncomfortably. It wasn't that he craved Jareth's presence precisely, but there was something coldly objective in Archer's touch. It was less sensual and caring, less human somehow. A remembrance of the touch of another pair of hands sent his blood singing through his veins.

"Do you miss your bonded lover?"

The question was so abrupt it startled him, scaring him out of his mental hidey-hole and bringing back to reality with an erudite "eh".

Archer laughed softly and stood to put the box back. "I asked if you missed your lover."

"He's not my lover," Toby protested, slipping his shirt back on and feeling less vulnerable.

"Jareth has mentioned that too. I apologize for my rude comment of yesterday. What you and my cousin do between your respective or shared sheets is none of my business. I have been a lord for too long, I think. And mortals are not held to high regard in the Underground."

"Yeah, I'm getting that." Toby couldn't help sounding bitter.

Archer pressed on- "Which is not to say that all of us are in league to hurt you. Your, uh, tribulations of the past ten days have been terrible to hear of. I hope something can be done. Jareth is certainly bent on avenging you."

Toby blushed, whether happily or not was yet to be decided. He looked at his hands, almost lost in the over-long cuffs that slid down past his knuckles. It felt nice to have someone he trusted so much. Perhaps, he thought wistfully, it was just the bond.

"You look apprehensive," Archer commented, "Have I offended you?"

Toby looked surprised and glanced up with enquiring blue eye. "Not at all. I was only thinking. You know, two weeks ago I wouldn't have trusted Jareth as far as I could throw him? And now I think I'd really miss him if he wasn't with me when I woke up. I was just thinking that the bond must be really weird to make that happen."

"It need not be the bond at all." A well-shaped hand pushed wisps of dark hair behind a sculptured ear just as Jareth sometimes did. "Sometimes a being can feel that way with love. And you and my cousin are certainly close."

"We are?"

"The minute the sun began to sink last evening, the Goblin King went flying out into the night air to find a missing mortal. He brings you in and there is open anger for what has been done to you. This morning you wake and the only thing that comforts you is Jareth's name. Why, the very thought that he might care made you blush just a minute ago! I would say you are closer to him than many of his past lovers have been."

Toby bit his lip and looked fearful. Love? He was not in love with Jareth and knew for a fact that Jareth was not in love with him. How could he be? The moon-blond Goblin King could no more love someone like him than his dark-haired cousin could. Maybe Jareth sometimes found him attractive. But it was like he had said that night in the library- Toby was the crystal he could touch, the physical personification of his spiritual connection to another creature. There was no real knowledge between them.

"Jareth cares very deeply," Archer broke in, his face serious and sombre, "I do not want to see him hurt."

"He's old enough to take care of himself," Toby whispered, fighting the underlying current of accusation in the fairy's voice, "He's all grown up and he doesn't need you fighting his battles."

"Listen to me, mortal," Archer said quietly. There was a hard, cold glint to his eyes and a roughness to his voice that resonated unpleasantly with darkness. The effect of the danger and his beauty almost seemed to invite Toby to kneel at his feet and offer anything in worship of this vengeful God. "Jareth and I have been brothers for more than twenty times the years of your life. Do not make the mistake of thinking you can break my favour with him. Many have tried; all have been disappointed. He will not give me up no matter what you do or say."

"And what makes you so special?" Toby wasn't about to say that he had no intention of making Jareth giving Archer up. In point of fact he liked Archer. True, there was something dark about him, but he reminded the boy of how Jareth might have been had he been less tender.

"I am his family. And I am his heir."

Toby looked confused. "To the Goblin Kingdom?"

"To the Goblin Kingdom," Archer agreed.

"Oh." He looked down to his hands again, seeing scratches that still nestled in the golden skin. Had Jareth been applying the cream, they would have been sought out and treated, no matter how small. Archer had simply treated the visible stuff. And there lay the difference- Jareth cared for what lay below the surface. Toby suspected that the half-fairy was a closet romantic. And he was definitely a sensualist! But Archer was clinical and a pragmatist. He operated on what was there and not what might be. Jareth was the dreamer; Archer dealt with facts.

"I did not mean to make you think I disapproved of you," Toby explained hesitantly, "I just don't know anything about Jareth or you and I guess my nerves made me over-react. This thing... it isn't easy and it makes me snappish."

"It is understandable. Rape is never easy. This man, you cannot recognize him?"

Toby shook his head. "I can't remember what he looks like. I've tried! But I've never seen his face. After the first time I thought it was only my mind trying to forget what had happened. But then I looked at him even in my dreams and I just couldn't see his face! Only his eyes."

"What were they like," Archer asked gently, "Tell me, Toby. It will help to talk and I might find something Jareth cannot see."

"They're dark, so dark they look black," the child whispered, losing himself to his memories, "All of him is black- his face, his eyes, his hair, his clothes- I can't see anything of him. And he hates me. He never mentions it but I can feel it. It's like he hates me, but he wants me too. He'll whisper in my head about how beautiful I am or some such shit. But he hates me so much I can feel it every time he talks to me or touches me. And I don't know why..."

"How does he touch you?"

The question seemed perfectly plausible given the direction of the discussion and Toby answered it without hesitation- "Like a toy. He told me last night that he liked the smell of my blood. He said there'd be a next time. Every time he touches me I can't stand it! He's so cold, so very cold, and he freezes me with just the brush of one fingertip. I don't know why but even the way he looks at me is so wrong."

"Does he ask you to submit?"

"Not in words, but when he raped me, he tied me down. He didn't try to seduce me or anything. He just chained me down and got on with it, like he couldn't care less whether or not I wanted it."

"He doesn't. Such men never do. Poor child," Archer sighed, "You poor child. He'll keep coming back for you. How can he not?"

"How can he not?" Toby echoed, looking up with bright blue eyes, "Why should he? Why does he want me? I never did anything to anyone! Why would he hate me so much that he'd hurt me like this?"

Archer reached out a hand and stroked away a lock of golden hair, a sad smile on his face. "Because you are beautiful. You smile incredulously; you do not believe me? Why not? Your hair and your eyes, the litheness of your body... why do you imagine Jareth finds such delight in you? You are a golden idol created from the rays of the sun itself. For males like Jareth, golden idols are to be kept on a shelf and cherished for all time. For males like your rapist, you were meant to be enslaved and flaunted like a prized possession. Such men need to possess your beauty, to grasp it in golden chains and hold it captive until it freely submits to anything they desire. And one thing you must remember- this man does not love you. You are a prize; nothing more and nothing less. He will only value you while your body is supple and your face is smooth with youth. He could care less about your feelings."

Toby shivered, feeling the magnetic pull of Archer's word and hypnotic voice. It was confusing. In some dark place, the visuals in his mind were not so very different from what the Dreams had been. Jareth had flaunted him and possessed him and done things to him that Toby would not necessarily have ever wanted to even think about let alone try. And it had all ended the same way- enjoyably. Now this?

Archer was only reciting the same seductive demands as those Dreams. And Archer and Jareth were so similar it was scary. It could have been Jareth sitting there beside him, talking in this way. Toby wanted to fall to his knees and beg he be taken, just so the confusion would stop. He would put up with the pain and the fear if only in the end it was worthwhile. He couldn't stand this anymore! The pain was becoming so common to him that he wondered vaguely if he had ever lived without it.

"You look heated. Are you ill?"

Toby moaned softly as a hand was laid against his forehead. He leaned into the touch. But something was wrong. Even while the rich, magical voice was so enslaving, the hand was wrong. He didn't crave this hand and he longed to push it away, to demand the hands that knew the evil he craved but soothed and held him safe. Oh yes, he could well imagine that Jareth would take him right to the very precipice between pleasure and pain and push him further and further, inching his toes over the very lip... but then Toby trusted him to pull him back and save him from falling to his death.

"Jareth was right," that warm voice caressed parts of him that sent hot blood running wild in his veins, "You are falling so far into darkness. You need it now; you crave it."

"Yes."

"What do you need?"

"I need..." Toby licked suddenly dry lips and closed his eyes, "I need this to stop."

The hand was removed and Toby opened his eyes, the loss of contact bringing his senses back with the shock of reality. His heart stopped pounding and the blood stopped roaring in his veins. He flushed and scrambled backwards, mortified by what he had been thinking. How could he face either Jareth or Archer now, knowing what he'd been seeing in his head just a moment ago?

Archer settled back in his chair and smiled slightly at him, not in the least ruffled by what had almost occurred. "Perhaps I may offer you advice?"

Toby met Archer's gaze with a fearful nod.

"Experimenting requires active participation," the fairy began, "We are more open to same sex coupling in the Underground. Jareth tells me it is not so in your world. He mentioned that your father threw you out for being what he termed 'gay'. Be that as it may, if you must find out, go to him. Jareth is no rapist."

"No! No, he isn't. He would never! I've never thought…" He had, though, a few times. He had wondered about how Jareth seemed to know just how he felt and how his rapist was affecting him. How could he know those things unless he had- perhaps- been there? But Toby usually dismissed those thoughts; Jareth had no reason for such subterfuge. He would do it openly if he wanted to do it. Why would he hide his face and use Toby's mind? "Maybe soon," Toby evaded, "I'm not really into guys and it's not…"

"But you are attracted to Jareth."

"I suppose. He doesn't disgust me, at any rate."

Archer raised an eyebrow. "Good," he drawled, "That is a start. Keep in mind, however, that you are walking a very fine line with him. He will not wait an eternity for you to make a decision. Your chance might slip away very soon now. Tell him today. Tell him everything. Tell him that you want to be possessed and taken and driven mad. Make him swear to stop whenever you say so and let him guide you. Believe me; you can have no better for the ways of the flesh."

Toby was blushing in earnest now, feeling the heat rise from below his collar all the way to his hairline. The thought of completing yesterday's innocent beginnings after the agony of last night seemed unthinkable! Archer's description didn't help matters. To have another man touch him and do those things to his body seemed horrific. But then Jareth had been gentle yesterday; and Toby had been picturing it in his head mere moments ago.

"Is there a vow of silence I have not been told of?"

The restless voice came from nowhere, startling both within the room out of their personal reveries. Toby's spirits rose and sank in alarming sequence when Jareth shrugged carelessly out of his coat and came to him, taking his outstretched hand and landing a gentle kiss on his palm.

"And how are you today?" Jareth asked, a small smile gently over his lips.

Toby nodded and cleared his throat. "Same as yesterday morning- still not pregnant."

The Goblin King smiled and reached for the shirt, undoing the neck and checking the already healing bruises and cuts with a keen eye. Doing it up again, he was ruefully aware of how he appeared to his cousin. But after a quick sigh for his lost reputation, he pushed the thought of the entire topic away and turned to Archer with gratitude. "Thank you for taking care of my elf," he said, secure in his belief that the other fairy would understand. After all, was Archer not the closest family he had ever had?

"Elf," Archer repeated, warm brown eyes regarding Toby thoughtfully, "It is a fitting description for a fragile creature such as he."

That sounded far too close to the seductive words of enslavement that Archer had murmured to him, and reminded Toby of nothing so much as his recent swerve between wanting that enslavement and wanting to hide from it. "I am not fragile," Toby huffed, folding his arms in a snit, "And I'm still in the room so stop talking about me as if I was a new watch!"

The two older males shared an expressive glance and Archer bowed deeply to Toby. "We shall meet again I think, Master Elf," he said teasingly, turning to walk straight through the wall and disappear from sight.

Toby raised his eyebrows and blinked and then realized Jareth was looking intently at him, a gloved finger tapping his mouth in thought. Unbidden, the advice Archer had came to mind even as the memory of Jareth's kiss brushed his lips. He blushed and shifted on the bed.

"Is there something we need to talk about?" Jareth asked, confused by such behaviour. He'd expected to find either a broken child or a traumatized youth in his bed, not a shy virgin that didn't dare show his desire but betrayed it anyway.

"I've been thinking... oh, I'm sorry about last night!"

"It's understandable. You suffered a shock and you were merely reacting to it. But that wasn't what you were thinking, was it?"

"No," Toby agreed reluctantly, "But how do you know?"

"There's a way that a man looks, my elf, before he admits to a personal revelation," Jareth said expressively, "You have that look."

"Oh!"

"Yes."

The two fell silent, waiting for the other speak. Just when Jareth decided the day would end before this conservation, Toby jumped in with both feet- "I want you to take me."

Jareth had heard many come-ons in his four hundred and fifty-one years of life. This was, though, quite the strangest one yet. He'd expected something a little more subtle from Toby. "I don't think that would wise," the Goblin King cautioned, holding up a hand as if to actively stop him, "We should wait a few days at least before you decide such a thing."

"Decide? Jareth, I might never decide to do it! I need you to- to... I don't know! Show me what's been happening to me; show me what I don't need to be so scared of. I need to experiment now, before I think too much and chicken out. Because- because you were nice to me and kind and- and I trust you."

The oddities kept coming! Jareth had been called everything from sexy to downright addictive and suddenly he was also kind and trustworthy! He might have laughed if it hadn't been real.

"Toby, I don't think-"

"No, you know what- just forget it! I'm being stupid," Toby sighed, settling down on his back and closing his eyes. After all, his mind reasoned, he was poisoned and unclean. Why would Jareth want any part of him? He was nothing but a nuisance, a burden on someone who was used to being free to care about himself and no one else. He was asking too much with this... of anyone!

The soft kiss on his lips startled him into opening his eyes, a soft gasp escaping his tongue as he noted how close Jareth was leaning. He could feel the breath on his face, could see the texture of his skin and the true colour of his eyes.

"I find you very attractive," Jareth said softly, "And before you ask, I knew your doubts because I know you."

Toby shook his head and swallowed. "Not really, you don't," he said simply.

Jareth's thin mouth quirked meaningfully. "I believe I'll soon have the means to do so," he purred, sending a gently lascivious gaze over Toby's face, "But not now. Tonight, when you are rested and prepared. It will give you time to think and reconsider."

"Will you stop if I ask you to?"

"Whenever you demand it. If I feel your displeasure, I'll stop."

Toby nodded decisively. "Then I won't reconsider."


	13. Walls Closing In

﻿ 

Jareth left a sleeping Toby to go to his throne room. He hadn't been there for days, spending most of his time playing comforter and nurse. But now he needed time away.

Walking into the room, he stood languidly in the doorway and watched the chaos as the goblins trashed everything in sight. A decapitated chicken landed at his feet and he stepped distastefully over it into the room.

"Your Majesty!"

Instantly every goblin froze in place and turned to watch him stroll to his throne. The raised stone seat was the only spot left exactly as he had last seen it; mainly because they knew what would happen if they touched it.

The Goblin King picked up the familiar riding crop left on the velvet cushion and sat down. He stared expressionlessly around and enjoyed watching his subjects hold their breathes in fear. It had been so long, he thought wistfully, so many days since he had felt this reassuring power. "Proceed," he sighed at last, flicking the riding crop in their general direction as he swung his legs up over the arm of the seat and relaxed.

Noise and commotion erupted around the room. Enjoying the brief return to the way things had been, Jareth put his hand up over his eyes and sank into thought, his riding crop beginning a rhythmic tapping against his left boot.

He reviewed dispassionately in his head every second of the past two weeks- his unexpected decision to attempt to make the relationship an equal partnership instead of a convenience, the rape that occurred the very night that he and Toby had finally begun to settle things between them, the sight of his bond mate trapped in a horrific world that he could do nothing about, and then Archer's advise.

He trusted his cousin with everything he had. Archer had been there where friends had not. Being the only child of the Goblin King, who took too much after his fairy mother, was not calculated to help Jareth make too many friends. And he had early learnt that he wanted friends that could think like him and match him word for word. That had easily discounted every goblin child he'd ever met. So he had gone instead to the humans locked in the Ivory Tower, speaking to them of the Aboveground and their lives before they were wished away.

And then there had been Archer... Jareth was very hazy as to what life was like before his cousin but the friendship had flourished into something so strong that not even political allegiances could break them. The Goblin King had two weaknesses that everyone knew of- his love for beautiful things and people, and his strong reliance on his cousin's opinion. And Archer had warned Jareth to send Toby back:

_"He is not one of us, Jareth. He does not think as we do. I cannot see how this child will let you settle down with a wife and allow you to creep to his bed at night like a thief." _

_"I would be very clear on my reasons for marriage. The lady will accept that she will have only my title and my name, nothing more. Toby will not be hidden away like a shameful secret."  
_  
But the conversation had rankled- "How can you hope to protect him when he was attacked right in front of you twice, and you could do nothing to prevent it!"... "You cannot believe that he will ever submit to being taken after such a fright?" ... "Jareth, you are thinking with what lies between your legs and not with your head! You are the Goblin King and this mortal stripling cannot be what you look for!"...

And yet... Toby had asked, hadn't he? He had looked up with those blue eyes of his and asked to be taken. True, Jareth was certain the child would change his mind by the evening; but still, it had been a step in the right direction for them. Or was he only imagining that there was a 'them'?

What had finally sold him to the boy? For Toby was only a small, slim little mortal and Jareth could well find any number of child-like mortal youths to discharge whatever fetish he seemed to have developed. It was something about his spirit. The fire in him had been so dimmed by the recent happenings and yet there were rare occasions when it shone through like a light- Jareth felt his lips curl into a mirthless smile- no, like the sun. The Goblin King had many dark corners in his nature, but he felt positively brightened by that light. Fire-blond in every way, he mused, vaguely aware that a song was being sung around him. And like all fire did, it left its mark.

That evening, Jareth paced up and down for a while before making his decision.

It was all very well wanting to pleasure his bond mate and receive pleasure in return, but logically he knew he should refuse. It was far too soon and would probably only serve to terrify Toby. Besides, too much was changing between them and though Jareth hesitated to say more than that he cared, even he knew it was beyond that. The warmth that flowed whenever Toby let him near was intoxicating. It made the rest of the world fade.

And what of Toby? Jareth wondered if he was only turning to someone who offered comfort- the lesser of two evils so to speak. Somehow that wasn't a very nice thought.

Sighing heavily, he gave his orders and summoned Kyfrem. He had decided his way. The ridiculous plan for tonight could go ahead the next night if Toby so wished it- Jareth was certainly not going to turn down a night of passion- and his conscience would still be appeased. He would have to end it there, however, and he squashed the tiny voice inside him that mourned the projected loss.

For the rest of the night and most of the next day Jareth found himself back in his rooms, trying to ignore the vague restlessness and disquiet. He was bonded to Toby, was very fond of him and genuinely cared for the boy's happiness. But he wasn't in love because he'd surely know that. All this- this mess was simply a mistake. One that was tragic but not unsolvable.

Soft candlelight, rich opulence, wine... Jareth lounged in his seat and waited.

"Erm, Jareth? What's going on?" Toby was very uncomfortable. First Kyfrem had insisted on dressing him like a Prince in a fairytale and now he was standing in a small but ornate dining room that looked like the movie set for a Valentine's Day dinner in a bad movie.

Jareth looked up with a bland smile, and the smile faded. Blue-brown eyes stilled and trickled slowly down the vision that stood before him in simple black velvet. The material was too rich, too heavy for such a slim, youthful frame and yet... and yet Toby looked good enough to inspire quite a few fantasies. Jareth distractedly pulled his mind away from that and blinked several times, forbearing to reveal his reactions by standing. "Sit," he commanded, a little more caustic than usual, "I thought an evening together might be in order. We have so little time to talk."

"I guess that's my fault," Toby chuckled good-humouredly, sitting down with tired blue eyes, "Weird guys keep jumping me. And then I throw a fit and you have to clean the messes up. I should pay you over- time."

The half-goblin looked incredulous for a moment and then hurriedly put a hand up to block a smile with his lace cuff. "My work is my reward," he murmured chivalrously.

Toby grinned and hesitantly raised his glass to his mouth. He let the liquid barely touch his lip; tasting the residue first with his tongue to be sure it was all right. It seemed okay, so he swallowed a mouthful and sighed as the slick heat wove its way through his veins. Ah yes, the numbing effects of alcohol!

There was too much silence, too much tension. So Jareth did what he did best- he was insulting. "Do try not to drink your way under the table before dinner, will you? Jamelia will be most disappointed."

It worked. "Get stuffed, Jareth." Toby took another gulp and waited haughtily for his goblet to refill itself magically.

"Only with your assistance, my elf," Jareth tossed back, his own fingers tracing patterns on the stem of his goblet. The entire set was ancient and he would prefer not to have to use it but it was tradition. And he wanted Toby to experience that before... well, before.

"Why do you call me that, anyway?" Toby asked softly, "I'm not an elf. I'm mortal as everyone keeps reminding me. From which angle do I look elvish?"

"From mine."

Blue eyes looked adorably heated and confused. Jareth had once again forgotten to warn Toby about the potency of his wines. Ah well! It would be interesting, nonetheless. "The elves are a fair race of great beauty and wisdom," he explained, "Unfortunately, when the Underground formed itself into two rival Kingdoms many generations in the past, the elves decided they wanted nothing to do with either the Fairies or the Goblins. They took themselves to the Aboveground, hiding amongst the mortals for protection. They have been dying out over the centuries. Only a few remain."

"I remind you of a bunch of dead guys?" Toby asked dubiously, wondering why that sounded wrong.

The Goblin King rolled his eyes. "No, your beauty is elvish. The Gods know you don't have enough intelligence to fit on the head of a pin, but you are physically attractive. The elves were small and slight, like you, retaining an innocence about them that was belied only by their eyes."

Toby looked saddened, sobered up a bit by the sombre look on Jareth's face. "You're very upset by it."

Shoulders in white silk shrugged. "It's the principle of the thing. Beauty should not have been let to die. I met a pure-blooded elf when I was very young. He was of an age to look old, but he still held faded traces of immeasurable beauty. Oh, the fairies have their classic good looks and legends abound of people enraptured by a pair of fairy eyes or the honeyed words from a fairy tongue. But their beauty is cold and forbidding. The elves were of the earth, and their charm was of the dappled shadows of the forest, or the exotic birds of faraway lands. None will ever compare to such a people."

The monotonous ticking of a clock sounded loud in the following silence. Toby shifted and longed to reach across the table and touch Jareth's hand. Even better, he longed to sit in his lap and kiss the sadness away. Confused by such intense feelings and the image in his mind, he held himself in check.

The Goblin King roused himself from his nostalgic apathy and forced a smile to his lips. "Tonight is not for morbid meanderings! Tell me of the Aboveground and your life before... us." Mismatched eyes challenged Toby to rebuke the use of that word, but Toby only blushed and scratched the back of his hand. "Surely you had a life before me?"

"Well, yeah! It's just... it was very boring. We didn't have elves or goblins, you know. It was just school and... well, normal stuff."

"School," Jareth echoed, "Really. What was your favourite subject?"

"None of them," Toby shuddered, "They were okay, I guess. But I wasn't really a studious kind of guy. I liked to draw a lot. But that was stuff I couldn't really tell anyone about, as you can imagine."

Dark brows met in a light frown. Jareth steepled his fingers in front of his mouth and looked enquiring.

"A guy who's into arty stuff is labelled gay?"

"I see. So you followed these interests in private, I take it? Mortals! Such a pity about their closed-mindedness."

"I resent that!"

The tranquil conversation abruptly halted as two goblins flung open the doors and announced dinner. Jareth looked ready to strangle them but nodded his consent under Toby's amused eyes. He was, however, pleasantly surprised to see how his lover reacted to his subjects. Soft laughter at some private joke came from that side of the table, which quickly dried as the goblins approached him. He said nothing, but didn't glare the poor creatures into clumsiness as he normally did.

Whatever the hell the soup was, and Toby was inclined to think it was mushrooms, it tasted good. So he set about ingesting it with business-like good humour, relaxing in Jareth's reassuring presence.

"Slowly, my elf; you make me think I've been starving you."

Toby didn't like the projected implications of this conversation. But then again, he couldn't lie. He didn't want to. And what good would it do? "I haven't eaten for three days, Jareth," Toby pointed out quietly.

Movements were halted and Toby was given Jareth's full attention. "You haven't?"

"The day before, I was wandering around the Labyrinth and forgot to eat," Toby confessed, "And then yesterday I sort of slept through everything. It's no big deal, really. I just didn't feel like eating." He half hoped that Jareth wouldn't notice the slight flaw in his explanations.

"And today? Why did you not eat today?" Jareth evidently had noticed the flaw.

"I am! See? By the way, this is good. Jamelia should be congratulated."

"Don't. Change. The subject."

Uh oh! Bad humour and this generally meant the scene was going to be messy and very likely argumentative. Toby felt his hackles rise at that tone of voice. So he put his spoon down and looked up, meeting Jareth's smouldering gaze very steadily. "You want to know what happened to me today? I got another little mental visit. He didn't do anything this time, but he said some things. Nothing too bad."

Jareth opened his mouth in horror, but nothing came out. There were no words left in his blank mind. Again? In spite of everything? He had been in his room, thinking of himself while Toby was going through all that again? Gods preserve him, but how was this even possible?

"Don't tell me you're feeling guilty." The eyes flashed. Toby took that as a yes. "Well, you shouldn't! Nothing happened. I didn't have a fit and I talked myself out of whatever panic he talked me into. And he didn't rape me this time though he is threatening to do it again soon. Let's forget it."

He went back to eating. Only his hand was trembling so much he couldn't actually grip the spoon properly and the wine was hitting his empty stomach and everything was so messed up all over again. "Damn it!" he swore, throwing the spoon across the room after two attempts to keep eating.

Jareth was by his side in an instant, his arms holding the boy safe as the feeling of standing on the edge of a precipice suffused him again, warping his mind and making black spots dance in front of his eyes. Dimly he was aware of a rough voice whispering soothing words in his ear through the roaring of his own blood.

"I'm- I'm fine," he gasped, weakly trying to push Jareth away with one hand.

Jareth smacked the hand away and let go only enough to smooth golden hair back from over-bright eyes. "I'm sorry, Toby, so very sorry for everything."

Toby felt a cool finger trace down the bridge of his nose, tapping softly on his lower lip. The gesture was so terrifyingly familiar yet so different. It tickled, for one. "It's not your fault, Jareth. It's mine. It's my fault and I failed you..."

"One more word like that and I will lose my temper," Jareth warned him quellingly, "You know you aren't to blame; none of this is your fault. But tell me what's wrong, luv? You are tired and hungry, yes; I can feel that. And I understand why you would be upset, but you never push me away. Why is that?"

"I can't," Toby protested, struggling and getting his attempts to get away rebuked again, "You don't understand. I can't tell you!"

"Why not?"

"Sire? Oh."

"Get out!" A goblet clanked against the hastily closed door, just missing hitting the intruding goblins in the face. Seeing as they were carved from silver and inlaid with gold, the goblet was a fairly good weapon when thrown properly. And Jareth had thrown it properly.

"Toby, tell me now or else..."

"Or else what? You'll hit me? Lock me up? Chain me up like the bad pet I'm being? Well, sorry I'm pissing on your shiny new boots but this puppy wants to go out now!" Toby was quite aware he wasn't making much sense but since he was being bombarded by overwhelming emotions from all sides, he didn't really care.

Jareth, however, did. "Toby, stop it! You're not making sense. And I am appalled that you would dare accuse me of hurting you!"

"Not even if I asked?" Toby whispered, "Not even if I went on my knees and begged?"

"If that is what you need, Toby," Jareth ground out, flushing slightly, "I didn't think you would want that from me."

"Do you bite, Jareth?"

"Sometimes."

"In the middle of sex?"

Jareth frowned but nodded.

Toby pushed again to get out of Jareth's arms, but the limbs tightened warningly around him. The talk repelled him, made him sick to his stomach as the fear crawled over his skin. "You're disgusting," he cried, "Let go, you sick bastard! Don't touch me!"

Jareth let go and lost his own temper. "Sick? It's called passion! Something you wouldn't know a goddamned thing about!"

"No, I wouldn't! But who the hell cares to show me?"

Silence seeped into the room as the echoes settled down. Blue eyes stared bitterly into mismatched ones, looking between the brown and the blue as if trying to gauge what the punishment would be for this crime. In the end, it was this fear that made Jareth stop crushing the bones of Toby's arms and calm down.

"I care," he commented inadequately, "You have an infinite number of people who care for you."

Toby hung his head as his eyes refused to look at Jareth any more. He had experienced passion before, but it had been in dreams before this living nightmare had begun- dreams of mirrors and warm sex, long fingers trailing down his arms to secret places that craved the sly flick of a fingertip. But he was ashamed of what he felt; couldn't the Goblin King see it? "No, my father would tell me that I deserved it. He hates that I'm attracted to men. But I'm not! I'm not attracted to men and I never wanted a man to take me. Until you; you came had to make me want it, didn't you?"

Jareth flinched. He remembered the tremulous voice that had begged. The child had asked! He'd been so caught up in what it might mean for him that he had forgotten to question what it had cost Toby to confront his fears.

He nodded once and looked at the floor in thought. Then looked up and reached out, giving Toby's hair one last stroke. "Very well, then. I was going to tell you this after dinner, but seeing as we were interrupted; Toby, I'm sending you back to the Aboveground. I can't keep you safe here, my elf. You don't belong here, much as I could wish you did. You're free to go wherever you want."

Toby started, staring with enormous blue eyes as Jareth got to his feet. "But the bond..."

The Goblin King shrugged. "We're neither of us in love, Toby. And the bond doesn't take away our right to lead separate lives. It will simply create uncomfortable feelings at first, but even those will fade. You will be safer in the Aboveground, my elf. There won't be anyone to hurt you and you will heal."

"But I don't... what about you?" Toby asked, still too bewildered to form a coherent sentence.

Jareth raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you needn't worry about me. I will go back to having mistresses. Or I might marry. You reminded me of my responsibilities; it would depend on which noose I want to place my neck in. Tell me where you want to go, Toby, and I will provide for you."

"Provide for me?"

"Your money and your lodgings," Jareth answered a touch impatiently. The sooner they finished this conversation, the better.

Toby thought about it. He didn't want Jareth's money or his help. If he couldn't have the comfort, there was nothing else. There could never be anything else and there was only place where he might conceivably feel at home again- Home. "I want to go home, Jareth," he whispered, sounding too old for his sixteen years as the tiredness in his voice rang clearly around the room.

Jareth nodded, pulled his bonded lover out of the chair and placed a chaste kiss on his lips one last time. Then, before Toby had the chance to start dithering, he sent him on, completing the entire farewell with the inclusion of a last present in Toby's pocket.

Toby blinked and sat down very heavily. Evidently his bonded lover didn't like long goodbyes. Which was fine with Toby because he didn't like them either.

And he hadn't wanted to stay in that place one minute more with a man who might rape him. Except Jareth hadn't ever, had he? No, he'd done something worse- Jareth had made him want it, beg for it, and crave it with every fibre of his being. And that, Toby decided morbidly, was half the problem.


	14. Slow Steps Forward

﻿ 

"Hey, dad."

Harold blinked at the apparition in front of him. It had been a lifetime but... was this really his Toby? "Toby? Son, is... who are you?"

"It's me," Toby sighed, raking a hand through his hair, "Look, I know you never wanted to see me again, but I just wanted to tell you..." he searched for what it was he wanted to say, "... I didn't mean that to happen; you know the deal with Jareth and stuff. I really didn't know! Dad, I- I just wanted you to be proud."

Harold gaped. Toby was really standing in front of him on his doorstep! And having a major epiphany from the sound of things.

"I never wanted to hurt anyone," the boy whispered, wrapping velvet draped arms around himself, "But things happened and I thought... I wanted to say sorry. You and Mom never deserved that; Sarah didn't, either. I'll probably be staying in that motel down near the petrol station if you ever decide... I know you won't, but maybe if there was something you wanted, or- or something I could do. I, um, just wanted to say hi."

He just wanted to say hi? His son was standing on his doorstep looking ten years too old for his age and dressed in black velvet, appeared from nowhere after having been stolen away by some guy who thought he was a Goblin King or some such, and all he wanted was to say hi?

"I think you should come in," the man said quietly, stepping back and holding the door open, "Your mother will want to meet you."

Toby hesitated, surprise flaring in his eyes at the invitation. He'd walked from the park where Jareth had left him to the house, thinking too many thoughts to feel quite sane. And he had talked himself into believing that his dad would never want to see his face, let alone invite him into the house. But now Harold was staring at him with some strange emotion flickering in the blue-grey eyes that had scolded him sternly over some childish error and Toby wanted so desperately so see the place where life had been... simple.

"Karen! Karen, come here a sec!"

The sound of high heels- how well Toby remembered that sound- and then a small blonde woman with bright blue eyes so like his own was walking out only to stop dead at the sight of him.

"Toby!"

The boy staggered back and almost fell off the porch as Karen flung her arms around him and held on for dear life. God, but it felt so good! Even with the usual sting and nettle of being touched, it felt like he had just returned to some kind of safe haven where nothing could hurt him ever again. For this was the Aboveground and such things as dark shadows did not exist here!

"Hey Mom," he choked out, willing himself not to cry in front of his father, "I just came to say hi."

"To say hi? You ridiculous, sorry excuse for a son," Karen scolded, automatically slipping back into the old ways of playing the stern parent, "Don't you dare turn up on my doorstep and not come in ever again! I won't stand it! I won't!"

"Mom, mom, I'm sorry! I swear," Toby laughed, unable to help it because his mother was scolding and crying and hugging all at the same time and who else but her would ever have done that just at the sight of him, "I'll come in! I promise, I promise!"

"Good," Karen smiled, sniffing lightly as she ran a hand over her son's face, "You look tired, dear. Come in and sit down."

Toby looked uncertainly back to his father, who only held the door wider and said nothing. But those eyes, Toby was sure, were not telling him to get lost. So he nodded and stepped in.

Whatever he had been expecting from entering his home ever again, it didn't happen. There was no warm rush of feeling, no sense of upliftment. All there was, was a quiet melancholy at the loss of something that tickled and scritched down his spine like the whisper of a finger. A long finger, pale white and delicate, caressing skin and soul in equal measures.

But as the door closed, Toby afforded his cynically sorrowful realizations a small inner smile of knowing. He'd been right after all- going home would take him back to the way things had been before the Goblin King. And if he concentrated hard enough, even this Dream would pass and he would wake up and find everything was just as it should be.

-------------------------------------------------------

And in the Underground, the Goblin King was not really sure what he wanted to do. He was standing on the flat ramparts of his Castle, enjoying the feel of the wind and the rain as they crashed and danced around him in the dark of the night.

"Pure chaos," he whispered, "How truly wonderful."

But he had work to do and putting it off for another day would only create more headaches. So he sat down cross-legged, bowed his head and summoned his magic to the fore. There were no crystals this time, no bound limits for his powers, and the glowing tendrils of light arched from the tips of his fingers to the curve of his palms. He pushed harder, calling in his very soul to the being he needed to see.

A burst of lightening and the storm lashed heavier, plastering his hair to his skull and his clothes to his body. And then a hand was laid gently in his and it tugged.

"Spirit," he sighed, getting up and shaking droplets from his lashes.

"You summoned me, Goblin King?" the being asked.

Had anyone looked up, it would have been the strangest sight imaginable- the arrogant King of the Goblins smiling mildly at a tall pixie-like creature with over-large pointed ears and skin the warm brown of an autumn leaf. Chestnut hair flecked with silver and gold fell tumbling in a wild mane down the lean flanks. There was no comfort in such a body and yet, in its hard litheness it was a safe haven in the storm.

Jareth reached out and captured a lock of its hair in his fingers, feeling the strands curl around the digit with a sensual slither.

The Spirit of the Labyrinth smiled- a warm, soothing smile- and leaned forward to encourage the touch. Many Goblin Kings had it allianced itself with, but none had garnered its respect so much as this one. And none had the potential to inspire it with such very human feelings of tenderness.

"You miss him." It was a statement, not a question, and Jareth treated it as such.

"I do. But it was safer for him in the Aboveground."

"You blame yourself far too much, Goblin King." The being tilted its head as if to physically regard him from another angle. "That is most unlike you."

Jareth smiled and shrugged. "There's a first time for everything. You look better than I remember, Spirit. What have you been doing to yourself?"

"I have received replenishment from you, my Goblin King," the being pointed out, curling its fingers trustingly into the soaking white shirt on the other's body, "there have been a wealth of strong emotions released from you lately. Some of which have surprised even me."

"That would indeed say much," Jareth agreed, "I was certain nothing ever could."

"Just as I was certain that you would not love such a one as he."

"I have not spoken of love..."

"It is in your blood and your blood is in me. Perhaps not yet, but it is there. We share blood and essence. I feel what you would feel; I think as you would think. "

"Does that mean you feel everything I do?" Jareth chuckled. He leaned closer, leaning towards a pointed ear, "What about desires? Were I to send my elf running through your stone hallways, would you seduce him as I would?"

"You forget yourself to ask such questions," the spirit rebuked, pulling away to show its disapproval. Walking to the edge, it hopped up onto the waist- high barriers and proceeded to dance its anger to the call of the wind. Wild, wet hair whirled and whipped in a stormy cloud and nimble feet made light of the supreme balance needed.

Jareth watched as familiar mismatched eyes turned to gleam at him. He felt his own heart soar at such antics, just as he felt his soul soothed by the grace and his strength revitalized. There was a flash of regret when the dance was done.

"You are a fool," the spirit announced, shouting the words out even in nothing more than a sweet whisper, "Your soul mate is brought to your arms and you let him go. He is human and his hold on life is shorter than yours; yet you waste time with these silly games? Bring him back, for your unhappiness displeases me."

"It is not your place to feel displeased." Jareth had business and he did not want to think of what he had done just an hour before.

"That is not the issue. When will the mortal return?"

"Spirit, you do not control my love-life," the Goblin King growled, "I have been very patient with you, and yes, even generous. You have crossed the boundaries time and again for what it acceptable behaviour and I have said nothing! But interfere with me now and I will not tolerate it."

"Oh?" the extraordinary lack of eyebrows was strange enough but the ever- changing tattoos inked into the skin of the spirit's face lit it with an ethereal, otherworldly glow. The colours and shapes began to blaze with ill-temper and over its shoulder Jareth saw the stones of the actual Labyrinth itself begin to groan and cry out in anger. "Do you imagine you could best me in a fight, Goblin King?"

"I do not imagine anything, Spirit. I'm not crying war; you are. But you have no business with my soul mates or bond mates and I will thank you to remember that!"

The Labyrinth had expected such a reaction. It had come prepared for such words and was not unduly hurt. But even expectations cannot stifle disappointment and the Spirit was very disappointed. For as long as Jareth had ruled as King, the Labyrinth had enjoyed the finesse of a quick, cunning mind that delighted in the complexities in the simple things, the twists in the tales so to speak, and now that Jareth was depressed... well, the quick mind was not thinking of anything so much as romance and heartbreak.

The Spirit simply could not understand it! These emotions were all very well but if being without someone made you unhappy, then the obvious remedy was to bring the someone back.

"I called to re-order your passageways."

The spirit stepped back in alarm. With the careless vibes that the Goblin King was sending out, the Labyrinth did not really want to be re-ordered just then. "I do not think now is a good time," it said hurriedly, holding up a hand as if to physically stop anything happening.

Jareth frowned and folded his arms across his chest, a frosty look creeping over his sharp features. His mismatched eyes plainly demanded an explanation.

The Spirit of the Labyrinth lowered those identical mismatched eyes and stood demurely before him. "You are preoccupied," it admitted, "That is not a good time in which to perform these magicks. I thought you knew that, Goblin King."

"By which you mean you cannot trust me to carry out my duties." Jareth felt that just another blow to his pride. First unable to capture Toby's tormentor, then unable to protect his bond mate from facing torture again, and now his skills as the Lord of Labyrinth were called into question too? What the devil was going on! Were the Gods of the Old Ones mocking him for something? Was this some kind of cosmic practical joke?

"It is not that I do not trust you," the Spirit said gently, reaching out a hand to touch his arm, "It is simply not advisable. So much control is needed, Goblin King, for what we must do that it would not be prudent to do it when that control is impaired. It is not your fault for you have suffered a great trauma."

"I have suffered nothing," Jareth snapped, grasping the wrist and hauling the being closer to him as his anger overcame him.

And then the Labyrinth played its trump card- it transformed into Toby right before his very eyes.

Jareth dropped the slender wrist with a gasp of shock and stood blinking in the wet for a few minutes. The storm had blown itself out for the most part and now there was only rain streaming in gentle rivulets to the earth. And in the rain, Toby looked drenched and golden and just as small as he always had, the defiant strength in his shoulders and fingers clearly evident as Jareth fought to keep back a hysterical laugh.

He stiffened in wonder as golden fingers trailed down the sodden linen of his shirt, ghosting over the back of his hand just as the original human had done. And the soft lips pressed in hurriedly for a quick kiss, receding before the half-goblin could react with a blush and a slight cough.

"Stop." Jareth was in no mood for mind games. At one time he might have welcomed them, but not now... not so soon. Not while he was still so raw.

The Spirit stood once more before him, sympathy in its mismatched eyes. "You have no control," it confirmed quietly, "Though you make an admirable attempt. Do not summon me again until this is sorted, for you will not yet have control until your wounds are dressed once and for all. I will wait until then."

Jareth found himself staring with hard eyes at empty space, the wilderness around him crying out in a raging torment that seemed, ridiculously enough, to be echoed somewhere in the direction of where his heart should be. But then again, how many had told him that he had no heart?

Archer... he turned on his heel and apparated away. His cousin's arms were the only place he would find some measure of peace within.


	15. Facts and Figures

﻿ 

Author's Note: Poor Archer! Such blatant animosity! And no, this is not it. It's not even the end of this series, let alone the fic I have in mind.

--------------------------------------

"Jareth, much as I appreciate being visited in the middle of the night," Archer groaned, "Do you not think this is a bit extreme?"

"You're my cousin," Jareth growled, pacing up and down the quietly expensive room, "The least you can do is pretend to care!"

Archer blinked slowly and refocused on the sleep-blurred figure bounding around in front of him. He leaned back into the soft plush of his armchair, languid in his sleepiness and petulantly uncaring of what this might look like. The few sconces lit around the room threw unnatural shadows and glows over the wandering half-goblin, making him seem like a creature of even greater mysticism than he was.

"Archer! Dammit, say something!"

"You sent him away. The Spirit thinks you made a mistake. I do not. What more can I say?"

Mismatched eyes glared at him. "Cold creature, aren't you," he hissed angrily, stopping for a second with his back to a bright spot, face as dark as his words.

Archer tightened his jaw and stood, controlling himself only because he could see how much Jareth was affected. "I am not in the mood," he emphasized, "If you want to be dramatic- leave! There is no place for hysterics in my palace."

Jareth slumped obediently, looking his defiance but knowing well enough that the fairy was right. Besides, he knew that Archer would never hold all this over his head. There were plenty of things that he had done in his long life that he regretted, things that he still could not completely look at without shuddering in horror at his own delusions. But for so long he had maintained his calm, maintained his distance. What had he been thinking of to bond with a mortal boy? What understanding could Toby possibly have of anything to do with him? Though in the light of certain happenings, Jareth found himself with an uncanny ability to sense what was in Toby's mind at any given time and it had, he was forced to admit, fostered certain feelings of concern and even gentleness…

Hands clamped tight on his arms, startling him out of whatever trance he was in. "Don't," a harsh voice said roughly, "Do not think of him! It does you no good."

"He is my bond mate."

"But he is nothing else!" Archer shook this vulnerable version of the Goblin King hard. "Do not delude yourself; this would never have worked and you knew that. He was to be your lover while he lived. How long would that have been? Hmmm? Twenty years? Forty? How long before he bored you and you let him go anyway?"

"I would not have let him go," Jareth whispered, too tired to even pretend any more, "I could not. He has something of mine; he has it even now."

The Goblin King did not see the swift look of pain on Archer's face, or the look of consternation. All he felt were the feather-soft touches of a pair of sympathetic hands, hands that were strangely not as soothing as they had always been. The touches they freely bestowed on each other now seemed... restrained.

"He has your heart?"

"I don't know. But he certainly has my soul."

"You fool!"

Jareth was dropped so abruptly that he stumbled backwards a step, eyes wide at the unexpected violence.

"You stupid fool! What did you do?"

"Do? I did nothing!"

"You must have! The bond cannot suddenly decide to strengthen on its own," Archer growled, arms on his hips as he stared down his nose at his shorter cousin. It was not an intimidation tactic, but rather one born of long habit from someone used to commanding a great deal of respect.

"Don't you understand what this is?" Jareth asked, glaring right back, "Can I not damned-well grieve for my loss?"

That drew silence from both. Archer stared coldly at him, brown eyes no longer so warm as they objectively weighted up the information that he had received. It was all very well to glare at him, but from long experience Archer knew that the only way to coax Jareth was to stroke his fur, not rub it the wrong way. Sighing, he forced himself to drop his anger like a cloak. "I am sorry, Jareth," he said freely, holding out his hand, "Come! What is it that brings you to me tonight?"

Jareth, surprisingly enough, blushed and turned away with a rough cough. "I- I need a favour."

Archer stilled and raised an eyebrow at the straight back. If he was hearing the sentence he thought he was, then this was a dredging up of memories left long in their past! Not since that first night had Jareth ever come to him like this.

"Just a night. Just to take the pain away."

Archer let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. His cousin sounded small, lost, and immeasurably unsure of himself. The melodically confident voice was no more than a whisper, and Archer knew what happened when the vulnerability of childhood flecked the adult's voice.

"Jareth, do not throw yourself into depression for this," Archer said gently, wrapping his arms around his cousin and holding him fast, just as he used to do all those centuries ago when Jareth had been a child and he the older cousin who somehow understood. "It is not worth it, my dear."

"I do not throw myself into anything." The words were weak at best.

"Turn," Archer ordered, hard hands forcing his command to be complied with. When that was done, he held him again, resting his cheek against soft hair and swaying gently in comfort. "What is it about him, Jareth? Explain and I might understand."

Jareth sighed and relaxed into the hold. He pushed the stubborn part of himself that hated this weakness into the mental box he kept in his mind and let himself grieve in a way he had thought he never would. "He is sunshine," he began softly, "Even in dark times, he is capable of such light-heartedness. Even in his confusion he sees so very clearly. He fights, Archer. And that is something I can admire."

"Admiration does not equate to love."

"Respect is something that goes a long way. But he is still just a child and I do not know..."

Archer trailed a slender fingertip over Jareth's spine, encouraging him to succumb. He felt the resultant tremble and let a smile twitch the corners of his lips. "He is too young to know," he completed, "Is that what you fear? If you desire him so much that you mean to make it work on all levels, then why have you not told him?

"Because he is too young. I don't want to damage his life. The Gods know I've done enough of that all ready!"

"Stuff! You have been everything that was careful and proper," Archer declared, his fingers finding paths to other areas that verged on not-quite- innocence. Yet he was careful not to push for more than he knew Jareth could give. "If you could not protect him, it was because someone else discounted your powers."

The instant the words left his mouth, he knew the damage had been done. He did not need to see Jareth's face to know his cousin had taken it the wrong way. And to Jareth's mind, how else was he to take it? He had been too blind, too useless to protect the one he was supposed to care for. How could that be explained?

"Ssh! I didn't mean that, Jareth. You know that! I didn't mean it in that sense."

"But you are right."

"No, I'm not. Truly, I'm not."

"Yes... yes, you are. Very well, then. I failed him and so I cannot have him." Jareth looked up with a very determined expression in his cold eyes. "Have you a bed for me, my friend? I will not sleep but I want some space away from the Castle."

Archer shrugged and led him out of the room. The hallways they traversed were well lit but empty. When they finally stopped at a door, Archer opened it and gestured to the half-goblin to enter. He shut the door behind them and listened to the quiet sounds that came from within for a few minutes. The creak of the bedsprings, and the soft footfalls of someone moving quietly in the darkness of the room.

Satisfied, he returned to his room, and picked up an ornate antique hand mirror from the dresser. Jareth was right; respect could certainly go a long way to inspiring love. And the child was certainly hardy if he was proof against his recent torments. Archer whispered quiet words and let his fingers gently touch the cold, smooth surface. Jareth's night would certainly be a long one, and he would give a lot to know what his cousin meant to do now.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Toby was asleep. Or so he hoped. His room had been exactly the same as before he'd left. His sheets had still smelt the same as he remembered. The furniture had been in exactly the same place it had always stood in. But something was different and he was vaguely aware that it was something to do with him. Of course, it could be that he had never yet slept specifically facing the door so that he could see instantly anyone who attempted to enter. It could be that this was his first night away from the airy, spacious room he was now used to. It could be that it felt awkward for him to look at such familiar things with such a different mind.

Slipping into sleep, he realized that his answers lay tucked in the unusual dreamscape he found in his head.

Staring around at the rich bedroom filled with delicate furniture, he wondered vaguely if he was meant to be here. A moment later he wasn't wondering at any of it, because arms had slid around his waist and pulled him back insistently to rest against a hard body.

Stifling a cry, he craned his head to see who it was. An amused but very gentle smile found his eyes.

"You seem surprised, Toby," this dream Jareth said, "Were you expecting someone else?"

"I... you... what the hell are you doing in my dreams?"

"I've always been here," Jareth whispered, "Always in your dreams."

Soft lips caressed the delicate curve of his ear and Toby let out a squeak, trying to wonder if this was really what he wanted. He wasn't ready yet! He had been taken by surprise and oh God, but he couldn't do this now! He wasn't in the Underground any more and this couldn't be happening to him in the Aboveground. "Let me go," he growled, pushing at the arms around his waist.

Jareth chuckled and only held tighter. "You do not want me to," he murmured, trailing his tongue down a prominent cheekbone.

"I do!"

"Your body says otherwise."

"Cause it's thinking with my dick, not my brain!"

"Ah, so you admit to an attraction?"

"Get off me!"

"No."

Toby slumped backwards with bad grace, his lessons well learnt from his first day in the Underground to know better than to challenge than tone of voice. He would not be released unless Jareth decided it, he knew that much. He could only wish dismally that the Goblin King would feel his discomfort and let him go. But letting go did not seem to be what Jareth had in mind, because he was turned, gently, like he had been the last time he had been held in those arms, and a teasingly chaste kiss placed on his lips. But this time, the half-goblin did not retreat. Instead, he closed in again for a longer kiss, pressing insistent lips over Toby's mouth, demanding that it be returned.

And Toby hesitantly gave him exactly what he wanted.

Time stretched and jerked around them erratically, moving swiftly and then standing still, until Toby could not decide if he had been kissed for hours or years. Certainly this Goblin King could teach him more about kissing in five minutes than Toby had yet learned in his entire life! And the long, slow strokes of that slick tongue in his mouth had him trembling where he stood, so that Jareth's arms tightened to chains around him- anchoring him in place, anchoring him to the ground.

"Follow me."

Meekly, blinking the daze from his eyes, the mortal followed, hand held like a child as he was led to the bed that beckoned for him with an inaudible voice. Before he could blink, time shifted again and he was lying on his back, his t-shirt gone and an obviously aroused male on top of him.

The kisses resumed just as he opened his mouth to protest and his muffled growl of indignation drew a warm laugh from his partner. Hands were roaming over him, touching him in a silken soft way that reminded him all too vividly of the other dream-like night he had once had, when he had touched himself for Jareth and heard that rough voice hiss pleasure in his ear for the sight he made.

Unbidden, he remembered the look in those mismatched eyes he had seen in the mirror and he began to blush, pushing a little at the shoulders he had been clutching like a lifeline.

Jareth stopped instantly and raised his head, looking down enquiringly at him with so much concern in his eyes that Toby shut his own and refused to look any more. Despairingly he hoped that this would end and he could wake up; anything to never see that look in his dreams. For what use were dreams when he couldn't have this reassurance in reality?

"Dreams are sometimes a reality, my elf," Jareth whispered unexpectedly, "There are reasons you will not understand, but in dreams you're mine."

Toby shivered in response, something in his soul surging upwards as if to throw him back into the half-goblin's arms. It was like a magnetic response and before he could think he had eased his legs apart, wrapping them securely around Jareth's waist as he pressed his body to his lover's.

The look of wonder was rapidly changed to one of need. Strong fingers stroked his face with the utmost gentleness. "Stay still." And then Jareth's mouth trickled slowly down his neck to taste and memorize.

Time moved too fast, bounding forward in leaps and strides, and no one place was worshipped enough for Toby's tastes. That talented mouth had aroused him to the point of insanity and still he had yet to feel it touch the place that ached for it the most. He soon learned that he would not just yet.

Jareth undressed them both slowly but kept his eyes fixed unwaveringly on his, watching for a sign to tell him that something was wrong or unacceptable.

Toby felt his lids droop in a languid haze of desire. He had no need to do anything. But unlike the rape, every last touch or lick or kiss was meant to entice. Jareth would no more hurt him than Toby could have prevented him from doing so. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see what would happen in fear of how he might react. He did not want Jareth to stop, would not have survived it if Jareth were to stop... but the rape had occurred and he was still terrified.

Oiled fingers reached beneath to touch. The boy almost jumped three feet in the air before landing back on the bed, wide-eyed and gasping. Jareth ran a soothing hand over his hip.

"It's all right," he heard, "It won't hurt. I promise it won't."

"You promised you would stop when I said. I'm begging you now," Toby returned, the desire turning to ice in his blood and freezing him.

But Jareth only smiled- how had Toby never realized how cold that smile could be- and brutally refused to listen to a word. Toby cried out as a finger breached him, whimpering as a needle point of pain slithered through him. But there was no feeling of tearing; he supposed that the oil was there for that reason.

"Jareth, I said stop!"

"You don't want me to," the Goblin King said. His free hand rose to stroke his lover back into forgetful lust. "Tell me that you truly do not want me to take you. Look at me and say it. Then I will stop."

Toby groaned, writhing as the pressure built up. The finger inside him was joined by another. The pain increased but then something even more miraculous happened- it nudged something deep inside him and the world fell away.

Time swirled and ribboned into streams around their bed, coloured into magical shades of blues and silvers. Differently coloured eyes of blue and brown held his gaze captive, impaling his soul and demanding something from Toby that he didn't know how to give. There had to be a command, a sign even... something! What did Jareth want from him?

The fingers stopped moving.

"What's wrong?" Toby asked, scared that he had done something wrong. Or had Jareth just realized who it was he was touching?

"You must sing for me," Jareth said whimsically, a teasing smile touching the corners of his lips in that typical way of his.

Toby's jaw dropped as he stared back up at his lover. Sing? In the middle of sex? Was his Goblin King mad? He contemplated saying so but decided it would be safer to stay silent. Just his luck, the only lovers he seemed to attract were possessive, sadistic or just plain weird! Maybe it was the hair, he thought dismally. He made a silent pact to cut his hair very short when he woke up.

Jareth saw the incredulous glance from those blue eyes and burst out laughing, leaning forward to nuzzle lightly into the crook of a golden neck. Oh yes, his little golden idol would be such fun to play with!

"Your body, my elf," he explained, still chuckling deep in his throat even as he ran a sensuous hand over Toby's slim chest, "Do not tighten your control so much. You fight me and so you fight your pleasure."

"I- I don't know what..."

"Let go. Don't be afraid of what you want," Jareth urged, sliding his fingers out and back in with a suggestive force, "Let me guide you."

"It will hurt," Toby whimpered, licking his wide mouth because suddenly his lips were so dry and his heart was pounding too fast. Something was in the room though Jareth was oblivious to it.

"Yes," Jareth sighed, "But the pain, my elf, is beautiful too.

The first thrust made him bite back a moan as he felt himself stretched and completed beyond all his previous imaginings. Oh, there was pain and he felt his face contort in reaction as he pressed his face into the pillow. But Jareth's skilled tongue flicked out to the contours of his left shoulder and he relaxed, feeling his lover retreat and then push slowly back in. And then that heavenly spot was nudged again and he surged up against Jareth, arching with a cry as that delicious feeling continued and grew stronger with each thrust.

The room spun around them, and the universe narrowed only to the bed on which their heated bodies lay. But Toby was conscious of looking out to something that he wasn't a part of. He was cut off, he realized with a sinking heart. So deeply did he want to love Jareth and be loved in return but he didn't know how. And his dark shadow had not helped because now he locked himself in without conscious thought the moment something happened that might carry the potential to hurt him.

_'... let go._'

Toby felt rather than heard Jareth's own consciousness touch his. He couldn't see Jareth behind him but he wanted that voice to love him, those hands to touch him everywhere that ached and throbbed for Jareth alone and he began timidly to open himself a little. Something hot and flame-tongued wound itself around him and he screamed at the intense pleasure that suddenly pushed through him.

Arms tightened around him as he writhed wantonly on the sheets, golden hair entangled and eyes turning electric as he merged not only with himself in spirit, but with Jareth.

Jareth gasped in his ear as he felt the pull of that overflow of passion. But he slowed for an instant to grasp those slender wrists and pull them tight over Toby's head.

"Submit," he ordered.

Toby's head whipped on the pillow as the tears came. Everything was too intense, too much. "You're killing me," he moaned, "please. Please!"

"Please what?" Jareth urged, "Kill you? Make love to you? What do you need?"

"Make the pain stop," Toby screamed, twisting beneath Jareth's body and surging up to meet each plunge, "Fuck, make it stop!"

"How?" Jareth needled.

"I can't do this! I can't! I can't!"

"You can."

"I'm scared... Jareth! Please!"

Soft lips brushed his mouth even as Jareth took him harder and higher than he had even imagined possible. The pleasure was so enormous that he was too small for it! It was ripping him apart and he sobbed loudly as his emotions went into a spin that threatened to suck him down into a never-ending whirlpool and drown him.

"I'm here," Jareth promised, "I'll always be here."

"It's so dark."

"You'll light the way, my elf. Oh Gods, so beautiful! Everything about you..."

When the final wave of pleasure hit them, Toby collapsed to the bed with a tormented cry of need, clutching tight to the sheets as his mind faded into white heat. Jareth ground down into him and glory of glories, Toby felt teeth sink into his neck, almost biting hard enough to break the skin.

When time began to creep by once more, Toby found that he didn't have the strength to open his eyes. He was still crying, the tears seeping tiredly from beneath closed eyelids. Jareth pulled him closer, helped him turn, a soft tongue licked gently against the stinging bruise on his neck, soothing the hurt skin with a rueful tenderness.

"You bite," the mortal commented thickly.

"I did warn you," came the loving rejoiner.

Then the tongue moved and warm lips kissed away the tears. Toby hiccupped as the laughter bubbled into his throat. "That tickles."

"Hmmm... does it?" He opened his eyes to see Jareth looking down at him, a white hand just beginning to stroke his golden hair, "I should do it more often then," the half-goblin said softly, "It makes you smile."

A blush began to spread over his face, but Toby heard no laughter, no mockery no matter how gentle. There was just that inexplicable smile of longing.

"You are beautiful," the Goblin King whispered, "No matter what happens. You were beautiful in your guise as snow prince, untouched and untouchable. But now... now you are the fallen angel, lost in a world of pain and still capable of so much pleasure."

"Jareth, we had sex; doesn't mean you can go all poetic on me," Toby countered, trying to lighten the mood. There was still something in this room and while there was no hint of actual danger, it was a hostile presence. But hostile to who- him or Jareth? Whose dream had it been any way?

"My dream," Jareth whispered, uncannily reading his mind again, "That's why I know what you're thinking. Relax, there is no one here."

"So you dreamed me into letting you do those things," Toby said slowly, fighting down the urge to be sick.

"No!" It was emphatic enough to ring loudly through the room. "I dreamed you so that I could show you that there was nothing to fear, Toby. You spend so much energy fearing yourself. You were raped but it doesn't have to end your life. Don't let the pain be more painful that it ought to be."

"Oh, really! And what's that supposed to mean," Toby demanded harshly, wriggling out from under his lover.

But Jareth grabbed his wrists and pinned him down to the bed. There was no anger in his eyes, only sorrow and love. "I can't give you reality," he said sadly, "But I can give you this much- don't fear feeling emotions that you are not used to. You asked if I bit; I said yes. You called me sick and perhaps I am. I have unnatural tastes and I admit that. But I know that if you fight the way you feel, you will kill yourself with worse pain than you can ever know. I have seen it. It was not pleasant."

"Who?"

"Too many of my subjects," Jareth sighed, "It is a tragic thing when goblins die of fear; they are a strong people and it takes a lot to kill them. They wouldn't listen to Arienne- my healer- but I did. And I tell you the same thing. Just because you think something comes from the dark side of the moon, does not mean it is evil. If it harms no one else, and causes you pleasure, then it can only be good."

"Like when you forced me," Toby remarked, running a hand over Jareth's back. He felt the skin pull over the ridges of the half-goblin's spine and ribs as he shifted.

"I did not force you," Jareth swore, "I would not have. But I knew your body and your mind were screaming for me, just as I could understand why your consciousness would not let it happen. I had to force you to accept it. But I did not force you to do it."

"I know. Jareth, I... what happens now?"

Hands drew him near and snuggled him closer to a warm body, a long leg sliding over his to lock them closer together again. Soft kisses feathered over his hair and brow. "Sleep," the Goblin King whispered, "The dream is done."

"You won't be there when I wake up." Toby finally realized why Jareth seemed so sad. He felt it himself, piercing his soul to the quick and drawing blood. "I won't actually see you."

"You have your family. I have my Kingdom. And there are always dreams."

The darkness seemed to grow as the room faded away. But the arms held tight, never letting go as Toby drifted off reluctantly into the grey mist that called seductively for him to take his rest. And the light touch of a voice singing a lullaby speeded him on his way.


	16. Sarah

﻿ 

Author's Note: Sorry, this is taking so long, but I've written myself into a pretty nasty little hole- too precarious for my tastes- and I'm trying to play the balancing act. But don't worry. It won't be long now before the climax arrives.

_"There's more?" you ask, your little eyes round with awed wonder. _

_"Yes," I reply, throwing out my arms magnanimously to embrace all my apple-cheeked, silken haired reviewers, "There's so much more to come..."_

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Days... three of them had passed and Toby had finally met the one person he had feared meeting the most- Sarah.

It had been surprising to hear that she had postponed her wedding when he was taken. She had cried on the phone, cursing Jareth out loud for ruining his life as she was certain the Goblin King had done, and Toby had not had the heart to say anything because yes, in a way she was right. Had he not gone to the Underground, his sanity would not be balanced so precariously on the knife-edge between this world and the next.

"I'm sorry," was the first sentence he ever said to her.

She had walked in, more beautiful than he remembered with her dark hair and green eyes, and hugged him tight. "You're alright, aren't you?" she had demanded, "He never hurt you? Did he?"

Toby had smiled mirthlessly and shook his head. "Not so much as a hair," he promised.

"It's not your hair I'm worried about," Sarah reminded him, "More like skin and bone and mind. He likes playing mind games with people."

"He didn't with me... much. He did in the beginning, but then he changed. He's actually quite nice." Toby could tell his half-sister didn't believe him. And he couldn't really blame her; Jareth usually sounded less than complimentary of Sarah too. "We- we talked."

"Oh, really. And what did the preternaturally self-obsessed Goblin King have to say in his maniacal self-pandering?"

"He needs me," Toby had whispered quietly.

Karen and Harold had been quiet for most of it. They'd heard the stern defences in Toby's voice themselves whenever he spoke of that weird man. But to hear this! Toby had sighed, knowing his parents weren't ready to listen and needing Sarah at least to try to understand what had happened to him. He sent her up to his room for a private chat and stayed behind for a minute to explain to his grim-faced father what he would tell her.

Sarah had entered the room with a smile of relief. There were clothes on the chair and the windows were open to air and sunlight. A book was propped haphazardly on the bedside table as if discarded too late at night. It made her feel unbearably sad to know her little brother stayed up so late for she could see the shadows in his eyes... and then she saw the sketch.

There had always been a sketch on the table for as long as Toby was old enough to clutch a pencil. And his skill had only improved with age. But as Sarah had picked up the drawing, she had known she was never meant to see this.

She knew that figure, remembered dancing with it intimately in a minute that seemed a lifetime away. The sound of moment by the door made her look up and blush.

"I- I'm sorry," she stammered, a look in Toby's eyes seeming to darken to something quite dangerous, "It was on the table and I didn't think."

The blue eyes deadened and stopped sparking. "It's okay, Sarah. I shouldn't have left it out. But I guess it pretty much tells you everything I was going to say. I don't see Jareth the way you do. I think it's pretty obvious even without me drawing pretty pictures of him."

"Pretty?" Sarah echoed, "Toby, this picture is something a little more than... Toby, this picture is sexual! Now me, there's a whole heap here that I'm not sure I want to know, but as your sister I have to ask you what the hell is going on with the two of you! You said he sent you back. Why? Did he seduce you and then dump you or something?"

"No!"

Toby placed a hand on the picture as if the being could hear. His eyes automatically strayed down to it. Yes, it was sexual; he knew that. But what Sarah didn't know was that the pleasure contained in those long, fluid lines hadn't been meant for him but for the Goblin King's Labyrinth.

So he had told her. He had begun his tale from the day he had left and told her about the dreams. The nights they shared in each other's imaginations. And she had been appalled, had raged around his room and threatened to kill Jareth for what she saw as potentially harming. And he had been unable to say that with him and Jareth, what she mistook to be harming was the sweetest gift that existed between them. What he didn't tell her was the real reason he was falling so deep in the abyss of hell.

And so Sarah had ended the conversation: "We aren't going to agree," she had said abruptly, patting his shoulder in sympathy, "I don't think we ever will. But I'll say this- you're not telling me something. I can't believe he would send you back because you didn't belong. Whatever it is, it's eating you up and one day it will get so bad that not even Jareth will be able to help. Because Jareth's funny like that; he's got this 'almost-evil' vibe that will only push you further into your problems. Then I want you to call me. We'll sort it out. Okay?"

So Toby had nodded and asked to be excused. "I'm tired," he said softly, "I want to sleep for a while."

Sarah had looked at him with her pretty green eyes and nodded. "Tell Jareth I want to talk to him," she said in leaving, "I'll go try and calm Dad down."

So he had slept, slipping easily into the state where he floated over the ground and then came to rest in a place that was far too familiar.

-------------------------------------------------------------

"Jareth, did you have to bring me here?" he demanded, looking irritably around the little park where he found himself. "I live here! I don't want to dream about it!"

"Don't blame me," Jareth snorted, "This is your dream. I just followed your thoughts."

Toby huffed. And got a light cuff to his head. Glaring, he reached for Jareth only to have the half-goblin disappear somewhere else. "Horrible, horrible creature," he growled, "Just wait! One day I'll put a bit in your mouth and a saddle on your back and I'll ride you!"

"You can ride me without the saddle," Jareth teased, smirking in that sensual way that let Toby realize what he was talking about. "And you can still enjoy the feel of the wind in your hair and the sun on your face... and a magnificent stallion arching beneath you?"

"Oh God," Toby sighed melodramatically, a hand raised to his forehead as if to shut his eyes from sorrow, "Talk about being vain!"

"Not vain, my elf; truthful."

"Not to mention deluded..."

"I am offended, now."

"And too touchy by half!"

Jareth grinned and captured his dream lover close to him, pinning his hands behind his back with a gentle clasp. They traded kisses lightly for a few moments before breaking away, content to enjoy the sunshine and too new to each other to feel the need not to talk and question. And Jareth had just been given a potentially good opening.

"Would you really like to saddle me?" he asked, shrugging out of his coat and discarding it carelessly on the grass.

Toby looked suspicious and shrugged. "Depends on why I would do such a thing."

Jareth shook his sleeves down over his hands and stepped away, gesturing to Toby to stand exactly where he was. "Wait," he asked, smirking as he shut his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he collapsed.

Toby watched as white tendrils flicked out and covered the half-goblin, obscuring him from view and his shape began to shift and change. But instead of growing smaller, as his owl form dictated, Jareth seemed to be growing bigger!

The ribbons and shreds disappeared and Toby stared open-mouthed at the pure white stallion with the black foreleg. He wasn't any kind of judge but it looked pretty magnificent to him. The horse whickered gently at him and then nuzzled lightly at his shoulder.

"Tell me you're not looking for apples," Toby laughed, reaching up to pet the velvety nose.

The stallion snorted and shook its head, dancing away a few steps and pirouetting in the sun. Toby sat down on the grass and watched, enchanted, as Jareth turned back to his man form. "That was great," the mortal crowed, eyes glowing as a smugly self-satisfied half-goblin dropped gracefully down next to him. "How'd you do that?"

"You didn't think that an owl was the only trick I had, did you?" Jareth smiled, "I am a little more powerful than that, my elf. I can turn to many animal shapes that suit my nature for the time. I only adopt the owl to preserve my magic when I leave the Underground. I cannot access the Labyrinth from the Aboveground, so vital amounts of power are lost to me."

"It sounds too complex," Toby commented, rubbing the back of his neck with a rueful hand, "All this magic and stuff. I don't get it- do you control the Labyrinth or is the Labyrinth more powerful?"

Jareth picked a blade of grass and stared at it as he thought of how to explain such a situation. It was simple enough, really, but also very complicated. "When the Underground split into the Two Kingdoms," he began, "The Labyrinth was a source of great contention. It had always been very powerful, very much an entity on its own. But the fairies had no use for it! They did not see its potential as the goblins did. So the Labyrinth was asked to choose and it made its choice- the Goblin Kingdom. Ever since have all the Goblin Kings been Lords of the Labyrinth, watching over it as the ruling stewards of the physical confines. If you want to know whether I can control the Labyrinth to my will, then no, I can't."

Toby nodded slowly. "So you just kind of take care of it?"

Jareth smiled. "The easy answer is yes. The hard answer requires more explanation. Which will it be?" Unexpectedly, he formed a crystal over the blade of grass he had picked and handed it to his bond mate. "The answer is like that crystal. Are you happy with the outward image of truth- for 'yes' will be truthful- or will you break the crystal to get the inner kernel of reality?"

Toby studied the delicate object in his hand. Jareth had been right; crystals were a little like soap bubbles made tangible! The blade of grass looked as if frozen in time, dusty green and perfect in its crystal prison. He really wouldn't want to break such beautiful artwork. "I want the kernel of reality," he sighed, "No offence, but even though we've agreed not to sleep together any more, these dream meetings are getting too damn unreal! I don't even know what real is any more."

Jareth stiffened and felt the anger course through him for just a second before he realized that Toby had every right to feel like that! Yes, perhaps he was giving up his reality too, but then the Goblin King had always loved testing the boundaries of truth, of seeking the outer limits of reality. It was what made him such a good Lord of the Labyrinth. So he held his tongue and let the boy keep talking.

"I was just thinking about it yesterday," Toby continued, turning the crystal over in his hands, "I only turned sixteen five weeks ago! And then a week later, you came to get me. And then about three weeks after that the rape happened. A week after that and I met your cousin, got whipped, came back to the Aboveground and started sharing my dreams with you. What's real? I mean, I'm used to weird dreams; I got them a lot all my life because of the bond. But this... this is getting nuts. So yeah! I want the truth."

Jareth was no longer in a very pretty mood. He was doing all of this for the mortal boy he had done the unthinkable thing with, and all the brat could do was complain? While he also knew this anger was irrational, it pounded in his ears so hard he wondered if it would be possible swallow it down as he normally did.

"You want the truth?" he asked coldly, "Break the crystal."

Toby looked up, startled to hear a note in his bond mate's voice that he hadn't heard since he'd first met him. It was cold, uncaring and aloof; and it scared him to hear all that once more directed towards him.

"You think the truth is simple? Black and white?" Jareth snorted, leaping to his feet and pacing to a tree, "Very well!" He waved a hand to the crystal clutched tight in the mortal's trembling hands. "For you, the truth will be black and white- break the crystal."

Toby froze, unable to move because something iron-tipped was moulding him into place, refusing to let him go. "Jareth, I- I... why are you..."

"Break it!" the Goblin King screamed, tossing another crystal at the tree beside him. With a sickening crack it fell, most of its bark eaten away as if by acid. Toby jumped and dropped the crystal from nerveless fingers.

Standing as if on two opposite ends of the world, the whole of the universe and nothing but themselves keeping each other apart, they stared at each other. Jareth was breathing hard in his anger, trying to wrest back control as the ground beneath him howled his emotions to the rapidly clouding sky. A wind whipped up from nowhere and scoured around them, chasing rotting leaves and wickedly hard pieces of dead wood in a narrowing circle around them. He struggled for control, chest and shoulders heaving as he fought within himself the power that became so much a burden with his temperament. And yet Toby still sat... his fallen angel in a world of darkness...

"Go back, Toby," Jareth cried out, clenched fists by his side as he realized the danger. For there was no more control within himself, "Go back! Wake up and never come here again."

That Toby started at. "But I..." his words torn away by the wind even before they left him tongue. "No! What's going on?"

Jareth shook his head, eyes closed and a grimace on his face as the wind howled ever louder. Archer had been right! He was playing with fire and much though he might like it, he couldn't burn the world down. He had to stop, to end this... now! Summoning as much power as was left to him, he summoned another crystal and flung it desperately at his lover, the wind wresting it away and slamming it with an angry hand against Toby's right shoulder.

Gasping with the hurt of the impact, Toby sat bolt upright in bed and promptly fell out and to the floor. The door burst open and Sarah ran in, closely followed by Karen and Harold.

"Toby! Toby, what is it?" Harold was the first to reach down and pull his stumbling son up and off the floor.

"Jareth," Toby was dimly aware that he was no longer in the public park just minutes away from his home but he was so disoriented and dazed, "Jareth, why... where... Oh God, no! No, where is he?"

Breaking away, the mortal tore down the stairs and out the house, not stopping for anything. Harold went after him and Karen cried in shock and horror at the fear and raging sorrow in her little boy's face. Sarah alone was staring at the unbelievable object half hidden by the bedclothes tumbled on the floor- a crystal with a perfect blade of grass encapsulated within it.

"Oh shit," she swore softly.


	17. Of Knives and Gifts

﻿ 

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay but I have other priorities at the moment. But if you will all be very patient with me, this part of the fic will finish in about three more chapters.

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"Days bleed into weeks and I know not what to do," Jareth mourned, staring out unseeing over his lands, "Tell me what your advice is now."

Archer sighed and rubbed his eyes, wishing that he could be anywhere but where he was. He loved his cousin, truly he did, but sometimes Jareth could cling like a vine. The Goblin King was impetuous, passionate and wild-spirited; it made him a great King and a terrible companion. Archer was certain that the enforced closeness would strangle him one day.

"Jareth, I have no advice for you," he replied, "You simply need to start living again."

"And how?" the half-fae demanded, sitting up and glaring down at him, "What am I to do? My kingdom requires nothing of me at this moment. The Labyrinth will not answer to my call until my mind is settled. And I am trapped in a never-ending flow of dreams with no colour. What the hell do you mean- start living again?"

"Well, it's your own fault," Archer snapped, "You were the one who insisted on inviting the boy into your dreams! What else were you expecting?"

Jareth growled something indistinguishable under his breath and jumped out of the tree to the ground below. His companion groaned in relief and stopped craning his neck upwards. The old oak tree was their favourite spot for such conversation and Jareth's childhood penchant for climbing trees to escape his problems had re-asserted itself.

"Stay on the ground like a decent two-legged creature, my dear," Archer murmured, leaning back against the trunk with a grunt, "I don't want to mend broken bones."

"You couldn't mend a broken bone if your life depended on it," Jareth snapped, his temper gone and not giving signs of returning, "Archer!"

The fairy Lord opened an eye and glared coldly up at his cousin. When the other gave no sign of letting him off the hook, the dark haired male rose to his feet and wrapped an arm around Jareth's neck, drawing him closer to him. "Tell me what you need me to do. I will help all I can but listening to you whine is not my idea of a good use of truancy."

Jareth simply stiffened and turned his face away. He needed physical contact desperately but he needed something that neither he nor Archer could give each other, even should they want to. And he was just so cold inside… he could feel it spread through his bones with every word, every thought. And that alone made him rage helplessly against what he could not help.

"Jareth, do you remember the first time we came here?" Archer began, softening his voice to something that whispered in the breeze, "How I found you?"

"Yes." Short, simple, curt; Jareth did not like those memories.

But there was healing in pain and Archer regretfully readied the knife and plunged it in- "It was the morning after your first male."

Around them the trees themselves seemed to lean forward to better hear the conversation. No small animals trespassed into this section of the deep woods but strange sounds of movements were heard amongst the boughs as though fantastical creatures of the utmost evil roamed the area.

"I do not want to think on that," the Goblin King warned stiffly, "Change the subject. Tell me of your Ariadne."

Brown eyes stared searchingly into dual-coloured ones, sifting through every fleck as though calculating the wisdom of pressing the issue. Finally, when Jareth had blinked and looked woodenly to the trees again, Archer sighed, let go and shrugged. "She does well. I think she is settling into my routine quite well."

"And how is she?"

"She misses the other humans. But I think she is glad to see the last of your Ivory Tower."

A crooked grin greeted that comment. It was only a few months ago that Jareth had given his permission for his cousin to take one of the humans he owned as a mistress. She had been willing, Archer had sworn to keep her safe and the exchange was affected- she had said her good-byes to all the others who had been there since they were wished away and left. "Give her my compliments," he smirked.

Archer looked incredulously at his cousin and then burst out laughing, leaning a shoulder against the tree as he shook his head in bemusement. "She will likely spit at the sound of your name, Goblin King. I do not know what you did to her but she does not like you in the least."

Jareth would only shrug and smile maddeningly. He was too caught up in his own troubles to worry overmuch about some mortal that was no longer under his protection. Indeed, he had enough to worry about in the Labyrinth itself without thinking about his own little golden mortal! His farmers were complaining about an infestation of grain-snatching birds. He did not like meddling with nature- logic demanded that things happened for a reason- and he was still not sure if he should intervene and protect or let it go and wait for the next year.

He voiced his opinions gravely, slipping almost unconsciously from personal to business. Archer followed just as naturally, settling in relaxed give-and-take as the topic of conversation shifted to something he was comfortable with.

Hoggle, however, was not having such a good time of it:

"Hoggle, you have got to help me talk to Jareth," Sarah pleaded, "Something's wrong with my brother and I don't know what to do."

"I- I can't," Hoggle protested, looking woebegone and tearful, "He don't want to talks to you!"

"I don't care," Sarah growled, twisting her hands in her lap, "Hoggle, I got married yesterday. Yes, yes, thanks for the congratulations but that's not the point. The point is that a friend of Ben's came to the wedding and Ben got him to talk to Toby. Hoggle, this guy told me that Toby could hurt himself."

Hoggle gasped and looked suitably upset. He didn't like seeing Sarah so frantic, or hear that Toby was so sick. But Jareth! What would Jareth say to the state of his bond mate? "I'm sorry, Sarah," he all but wailed, "I can't tell Jareth about this! He said I wasn't to have any friends and if I tell him that I was talking to you he'll throw me in the Bog for sure!"

"Hoggle, please!"

"It's no use."

"Yes, it is! Please, Hoggle; for me if not for Toby. Jareth won't touch you, I promise. Just get me into the Underground and I'll do everything I can to keep you safe," Sarah promised, "I really need to see him."

Hoggle visibly deflated, staring with panic-stricken blue eyes at his first friend. Sure she wasn't the young girl he remembered; Sarah had grown up and aged and stopped being quite so impetuous. But she was still Sarah. And so- "I can't get you into the Labyrinth…"

She opened her mouth to say something but Hoggle looked irritated and made shushing gestures with a gnarled hand.

"But I can tell him you wants to talk to him," he continued heavily, "I don't promise nothing but if I says that Toby's in trouble and needing him, he might just turn up."

Sarah let out a sigh of relief and nodded eagerly, smiling with relief at the plan. It was as much as Hoggle could give her and she was grateful. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Hoggle said gruffly, "I suppose you'll be wanting me to go talk to that rat right now? I thought so! Well, then… I'll be seeing you."

Sarah waited until his image faded from her mirror. Soon only the image of her old room remained, shrouded in the painful neatness of a place that no one really lived in; all her treasures had gone long before and nothing more remained to remind her or anyone else of the young girl she had been.

She didn't turn as the door opened, but nodded from the mirror as Karen and Ben walked in, anxious looks on their faces. It had taken a lot to get them to let her try this, and she would not blame them if they did not believe she had succeeded, but they were backing her plan and it was enough.

Strong arms slid around her shoulders and a warm cheek pressed close to hers. "Well, sweetheart? How did it go?"

"Hoggle came," she said happily, ignoring the look of doubt on her husband's face, "He said he'd try to persuade Jareth to talk to me."

Karen shook her head, her nervous fingers fiddling with the tasselled fringe of a wall-hanging. "I can't believe I let you talk me into this," she groaned, looking far too worn for her years, "This is ridiculous, Sarah!"

"Karen, I know you don't believe me, but Hoggle is real. Jareth is real. The Goblin Kingdom is real!"

"Oh, Sarah! I know this Jareth- whoever he is- is real," Karen snapped, twitching too heavily and pulling out a thread. Sarah winced but said nothing. "But as for the rest of this… well, I don't know what to think! And if your father finds out that I'm plotting to get your brother's…" She stopped.

Ben's eyes met hers squarely in the mirror. "You're going to have to say it some time, Karen," he asked gravely, "If Toby's been through some kind of trouble, this Jareth knows what it was. He might be able to tell us what the problem is. And yes, it's possible that they were in some kind of relationship."

Karen sagged, clearly defeated as she shook her blond head, eyes dark with worry. Toby had almost crawled home from the park that day two months ago. He had been exhausted and limp; almost falling onto the carpet the minute that her husband got him through the front door. They had called the doctor and the only thing that old man had said was that her son was suffering from some kind of mental strain! As if she didn't know that!

"Karen?"

She lifted her head heavily as Ben placed a considerate hand on her arm. Taking a deep breath, she pushed her frantic nerviness out of the way and smiled. "I'm fine, dear," she murmured, "Just tired."

"We all are," Sarah agreed, coming to hug the older woman who had finally grown to be the mother that her own never had been, "I promise I'll get Jareth to help. Don't you worry about a thing, Karen. Everything will be fine."

In the room next door, Toby sat in his bed in the dark and wondered tiredly if he should feel more upset for having overheard that entire conversation. But he couldn't; there was nothing left in him to feel anything. Only one emotion coloured every moment of his dreary life- loneliness. And he didn't know why!

The mortal picked up the black hilted knife in his hand, holding it so that the lights from outside his window reflected off the wicked edge. He had taken to staring at it through the long nights when sleep wouldn't come, trying to get his numbed brain to rationalize why Jareth had slipped it into his pocket when sending him back to hell.

But the only realization that Toby could reach had nothing to do with the knife. It did, however, have everything to do with the giver. He was in love. And it was a startling realization to believe that for he had never been a romantic person before and love was not meant to be the thunderbolt in the tempest, or the buzz of electricity in tingling veins. It was meant to be companionship and mortgages and maybe children… not Goblin Kings and magic and raw, aching desire.

But it was.

Toby sheathed the knife again and put it carefully beneath the false bottom in his childhood treasure trove.

He laid his head back down on the cardboard block of a pillow and felt the unaccustomed rumble of some stray emotion penetrate the thick fog clouding his senses. Bitterness… Oh God, yes; for after years of deluding himself that he was rational and independent, he was now lost to complete need for one other that did not even want him. And who could he blame but himself for being stupid enough to drive him away?


	18. All the Madmen

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Author's Note: A weird chapter with a slightly different style of writing, but I thought the situation warranted it. Don't hate me too much! Just another chapter or so to go.

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"I wish... Jareth..."

It was the smallest of soft voices. But it had the unparalleled effect of stopping a very officious Goblin King straight in his tracks. The goblin he had been tiredly conversing with stared as the pale face went even whiter, becoming more bloodless than usual in an instant.

Such voices always echoed around this part of the Castle, so Griggs the cobbler did not see any reason to stand and stare into space like a statue. Indeed, he was sourly of the opinion that such things shouldn't be allowed, considering he was trying to have a conversation with the half-goblin in question! He screwed his screwed-up little face even further and folded his stubby arms, glaring up as the slender figure swayed with some indecisive thought.

"We was talking," he reminded Jareth belligerently.

"Find the dwarf," Jareth said instead, "Tell Hoggle to contact the Williams girl. Something's wrong with her brother. Now, you little twit! Don't gape like a fish!"

Griggs ran off in a fright, a crystal blazing fire on his trail. His cries and protests went unheeded as Jareth assumed bird-form, taking to the skies in indecent haste. The streaking colours of dawn threaded their way through the moonless sky of the Underground and a distracted Jareth changed his animus from his typical owl to a white hawk, soaring faster and ever faster as he expended precious energy to command the wind to carry him to the Aboveground.

Hoggle got his message when someone clumped into his house and thumped him soundly on the head.

"Ow," he complained, springing upright and shying away, a hand clasped sleepily to his head, "What is it?"

"King... voice... Williams," the fat old goblin gasped, still dancing around the room as a crystal made pretend rushes at his heels.

"Stay still," Hoggle groaned, clambering out of bed and picking up a pail of water. He was always afraid that his house would burn down and now silly goblins were trailing burning crystals across the floor! The crystal was drenched, the flame went out and the goblin collapsed in a gasping heap on the floor.

"King Jareth," Griggs finally panted, "'E said... you was... talk to the Williams girl. Somethum about her brother."

"Toby? What's wrong?" Hoggle demanded, picking him up by the lapel and shaking him.

"Don't know, don't know," the cobbler yelled, letting out a plaintive 'oof' as he was dropped. "'E took off to the Aboveground. Said you is to check with the Williams."

Hoggle nodded and ran to his mirror. "Sarah," he called, beginning to bounce up and down and tap on it, "Sarah, you there? It's important!"

Jareth was, by this time, well enough between the two worlds to feel the usual warping of dimensions that such journeys always involved. One never felt it if one apparated, but actually breaching the barriers meant a very heady mix of adrenaline. And considering how worked-up he already was, his blood was sent pounding in his ears. He circled over the house he had studiously avoided for over two months. The house from his dreams and- more recently- his nightmares; how he prayed that he was over-reacting.

"Jareth, please..."

The child had begged! He had asked! How the devil could the Goblin King deny him anything? Not with those blue eyes turned to him and that sweet wide mouth tempting and crying to be made love to. How could anyone have expected that?

"So cold..."

He circled, watching the ground rush up to meet him as he made for the familiar branch where he had once sat watching Sarah. Hopping and flapping to the branch next to it, he checked through all the windows, following the faint echo of that voice from his Castle. Where was the dratted boy?

Alarmed, he felt the tremors begin in the feathered tips of his wings. Swearing softly, he transformed back to human shape, crouching on the branch for a few moments as he shut his eyes and fought the nausea. This was the reason that he hated using more magic than he needed in this world.

"Hoggle?"

The moon-blond strands of hair floated as Jareth's head snapped up. He twisted his neck a little to the right, trying to ascertain where the voice was coming from.

"Hoggle, slow down! What are you talking about? Toby's fine!"

Sarah! He pondered the distance and made a few rapid calculations. Sighing, he simply shut his eyes and jumped.

Sarah whirled around and screamed; leaping up from her seat before the mirror as Jareth quickly pulled himself in at the window.

"Where is Toby?" he demanded, a little out of breath, but too worried to bother with niceties.

"Why?" Sarah asked immediately, "Why do you want to know?"

"I don't have time for this, Sarah. Where is he!"

"You can yell all you want," Sarah spat, "I'm not telling you anything. At least, not until you listen to me. Toby's in pain. He's depressed and suicidal and... ow!"

Jareth had already grabbed her arm viciously and now he shook her. "He is in trouble," he growled, "He would not call me if he was not. Tell me now, Sarah, before I lose my patience."

"He's fine," Sarah protested, not in the least intimidated, "And he's safe."

"Really?" Jareth sneered, letting her go so suddenly that she stumbled backwards against the chair of her dressing table. "Well, then. Explain why it is not quite daylight in your world and your brother is not in his bed!"

Sarah gasped, a hand rising to cover her mouth. Green eyes widened in fright and apprehension. A quick flash of understanding and then she straightened. "He went to the park last night," she said quickly, making for the door and beckoning Jareth after her, "He was gone very late, but he came back. I'm sure he did!"

"Did you see him?"

"Dad and Karen..."

"He didn't return," Jareth interrupted positively, "He could be anywhere. Check his room. Call his friends. I don't care if you rouse the entire population of this god-forsaken town, just find out where he is!"

The half-goblin bounded lightly down the stairs, noiseless feet barely touching the carpet as he strode for the door.

"Where are you going?" Sarah yelled after him.

"Park," came the growled answer, "I'll start there."

"Jareth!"

He turned back and saw an enormous pair of green eyes speak uncertainty. For a moment he could almost imagine jeans and a peasant blouse. But then he shook his blond head and saw the reality of a warm dressing gown over a long nightshirt, dark hair cut short and bobbed. There were no sparkling dresses and fairytale balls for him here. "I'll bring him right back," he promised.

Then he was gone, leaving Sarah to stand on the steps of her home, bewildered and alone in the quietness, wondering if she had actually witnessed that scene or gone mad. But Karen's white face descending to her side and her father's worried eyes snapped her out of it. For once, she would be happy that the Goblin King was involved, for if anyone had the means to find Toby before he did something stupid, he did.

But said Goblin King was not so sure. Heels clicking a noiseless patter of steps, he made his way swiftly down the streets of the little town. Dawn was coming fast and the air promised a cold day ahead, filled with the crispness of a sharp breeze. But there was no time to enjoy nature; Toby was yet to be found.

People stared and Jareth ignored them, refusing to acknowledge the sideways glances of surprise at his flamboyance and his billowing shirts. They were not important. He felt his heart squeeze within his chest at the thought of the one reason why he would ever have come up to this place at this time, clenching his teeth and exhorting his body to move faster.

"Excuse me," he said pleasantly, stopping abruptly in front of a man walking his dog. A sharp glance down and the animal sat quiet and waited for him to finish his conversation. "Is there such a thing as a public park in your town?"

"Yeah, there sure is."

"Where?"

"You new in town?"

"In a manner of speaking. Answer the question, please; I've no time to chat!"

The man looked visibly apologetic and gave directions, using his finger to point the way out behind him. Jareth thanked him, surreptitiously slipped a wish crystal into an unsuspecting pocket and stalked off, just a step short of running in his fear.

But surely there was nothing to fear! Toby was probably only feeling a little upset or something; nothing that needed such vehement action. After all, the half-goblin reasoned, had something happened to the boy then he would surely have felt it even with the bond being as tenuous as it was. But Archer had sent him early to bed and he had slept so terribly deeply. Surely that couldn't have happened if Toby had needed him? Or was the bond even thinner now that they were in different worlds?

Trees! There were trees! Yes, he remembered this place now. Sarah had come here to rehearse her little plays when she's been young and he'd been bored enough to take an interest.

The bridge!

Jareth made for the bridge, a little put out that the place was just big enough to take precious minutes scouring it away from him. True, he probably had enough magic to turn himself into a bloodhound, but he preferred to keep that store of energy in case of later emergencies.

Gold!

"Toby?"

Blood!

"Toby, open your eyes. Come on, my elf, wake up."

Far too much blood! And a knife! His knife! His present!

"Toby!"

In his pure frenzy of desperation, he completely forgot to wonder about the nakedness of his bond mate. All he knew was that the exposed skin was far too cold from blood loss and the night air, and that the knife was still embedded in Toby's stomach.

"Let's get you to safety," Jareth whispered, shrugged out of his coat, "Don't worry. You'll be fine now."

Mismatched eyes darted around to ascertain that no one was watching, or lying in wait. But the deft hands were already wrapping the small body up, taking care not to disturb or move the knife from its position. In truth, he knew he was probably doing more bad than good by moving the boy at all, but he could not tend to him in a public park!

'Suicidal' he remembered Sarah mentioning; had Toby done this himself? Jareth had not thought that even Toby would sink so far to the darkness for him to want to die! And besides, he reasoned, lifting the still figure up into his arms, even had Toby stuck the knife in himself he had certainly never made those bruises.

And Jareth had a nasty suspicion he had seen bruises like those before, though never in such abundance.

He used the last bursts of his magic to apparate them both back to the Williams' house, handing Toby over to his father with an exhausted nod. "Wait," he begged, "Don't call the ambulance. I'll heal him."

"You stay the hell away from my son," Harold snarled, "And get out of my house."

"I am exhausted, but not deaf. Refrain from shouting or I will cut your tongue out." His voice and eyes dared the human to defy or disbelieve him, holding stormy blue-grey eyes for a long moment before turning to Karen. "Your son is dying," he said abruptly, "Your doctors will not be able to save him now. But I know someone who can. Keep him warm and as covered as you can. But do not touch the knife or try to remove it. Try not to bring him around; if you even succeed it will only send him into shock. Am I clear?"

"Very," Karen agreed, "Harold, upstairs. Sarah, bring warm water and a cloth- move!"

Jareth blessed the no-nonsense streak of the little human woman and pushed himself. His magic was severely depleted for what he wanted to do, but life force held a magic all its own. And he had no scruples about using it in such a case. It stung terribly, but once he had Arienne brought to Toby's side, he would be able to rest.


	19. Suicide

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Author's Note: THIS IS IT! Yes, I know it won't be as good as the ones before this, but we ain't even done yet! But this is the last chapter in this part of the fic and if you give me a week or so, I'll have the sequel begun and hopefully the first chapter for that ready to post. That is, if there's interest?

Author's Note 2: Thank you, once more, to all my beautiful sweetly gorgeous reviewers who've been so encouraging and I'll try to email you all personally as soon as I can.

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Both father and mother were relieved to see their son's unacceptable saviour return a short while later, a small, gnarled, twisted little man with him.

Arienne nodded to them both and hurried to Toby's side, nodding with approval at the way the blood had been cleaned away and the almost lifeless body kept warm. "How long?" he rasped out.

"Twenty minutes to my knowledge," Jareth answered decisively, "Can you save him?"

Arienne shrugged and shooed Karen out of his way. He dropped his bag down next to him and pressed down lightly on the fluttering pulse at the boy's wrist. "His pulse is thready, and he has lost far too much blood. But thank the Gods he left the knife in!"

"Thank God?" Karen echoed.

"The knife stops the thing from bleeding too much," Harold said quietly, dropping a quiet hand on his wife's shoulder, "Sweetheart, why don't you wait outside?"

"No," she said decisively, "I've got to watch it. I must. He's my baby."

Jareth winced and turned considerately away. For one, because he did not like intruding on such a private scene, and for another, because he could not bother with such sentimental tripe while his bond mate was dying. He discussed options quickly in an undertone with Arienne and nodded.

"It can be done," he finally allowed, "But I'm not sure how the Spirit will react."

"Jareth, the Spirit will do anything you ask," Arienne said tersely, fiddling inside his bag for the bandages, "Get on with it. But first... the knife."

"As you wish."

Sarah watched from the doorway, wishing that Ben hadn't already left for work as she didn't think she would ever need his support more than at this moment. She nibbled on her nail, worried because she did not understand what was going on but not daring to ask for information in case she distracted someone at a vital point. At least Jareth seemed fitter, she owned, less shaky and much more confident in himself.

The Goblin King summoned a crystal and Arienne readied a thick wad of bandages. "Alright, my boy- now!"

The crystal expanded around the knife, blooming around to cover not just the insulting hilt and exposed blade but also the whole of the blade even within the wound. Jareth shut his eyes to better sense the direction. His healer encouraged and directed him, helping him steel the flow to only the exact amount needed. For even a grain more magic or force and the knife might shift within the injury and do worse damage.

Karen clutched at her husband's hand and felt the fingers tighten on her shoulder. Sarah prayed to every God that had ever been in existence that her brother would be saved.

"Hurry, Jareth," Arienne said quietly.

Jareth gave no outward sign of having heard it but completed the task a moment later and nodded. "I will reverse this segment of time," he reminded quietly, "But I cannot undo the harm it has done. Are you sure, Arienne?"

"Tis the only way, Jareth," the half-goblin answered regretfully, "I fear... but we may still make it and you must do this."

"On my count," Jareth sighed, "One... two... three!"

A blinding flash within the crystal and then the knife went spinning through the air, repulsed by the flesh and banished from the body. Harold ducked just before it hit him. Blood welled in a red tide, seeping over the concave stomach and dying the sheets beneath it a dark crimson.

Sarah turned green and left the room.

Arienne pressed the wad of linen down on the agitated injury, pressing hard to stop the bleeding as best he could. Jareth snatched up another prepared wad and with barely a breath to steady himself had pushed it down on top of Arienne's.

"I'll keep the pressure," the healer grunted, "Get the Spirit."

Jareth nodded, paused to touch a bloodstained finger to a bloodless lip and strode to the room. Impatiently he waved Karen and Harold out of his way and sat down. This time he did not call on nature to aid him or rely on the energies already in existence. The way he used was shorter, sharper and very much more dangerous to someone less skilled. But Jareth was skilled and the Goblin King had never had so much as stake before.

With a resounding creak and crack as if stone was breaking, the wild creature from his Kingdom stood before him.

Karen and Harold gasped and clutched each other, taking in the thick mane of curls that hung down to a thin waist and the delicacy of the large pointed ears. The fingers were long and thin... indeed everything about this 'Spirit' was thin! And then it turned to look at them and they saw a now familiar pair of mismatched eyes.

"Why am I summoned, Goblin King?" the thing demanded.

Jareth leaped to his feet and gestured the Spirit of the Labyrinth to the bed on which Arienne was still fighting for Toby's life. "Toby," he said simply, "Spirit, he is dying."

The spirit looked down sadly and put out a cool hand, brushing the hair back from the greyish brow. "What am I to do?" it sighed, "I am only the personification of a magickal energy. How can I help?"

"Give me more power," Jareth asked, "I can try to heal him by anchoring his soul to his body but I require far more power than I have. Even in the Underground I would not have enough! But lend me the power and I may save him."

"It is hopeless," the spirit protested. "You ask too much."

"I ask for your help, as have my ancestors. Would you deny me now?"

"I would deny using unnecessary energy for what will not work."

"Spirit, if I do not save him, I will regret it forever. Do you understand me?"

A slow smile spread over the thin lips, curving them into the most delighted expression.

"Now may I have the power?"

"Hold out your hand, my Goblin King. I have a present."

Jareth held out his hand, but when he saw the ugly looking piece of raw diamond that the Spirit made to give him, he sighed in frustration. The fingers stopped and dual-coloured eyes looked a cold enquiry at him.

"Do you mean to refuse my present, Goblin King?"

"No, no," Jareth snapped, "Just hurry the damned thing up! He'll be dead before we begin at this rate!"

The stone was laid in his palm and Jareth felt an almost overpowering insurgence of emotion. The present was sweetly warm, yet with the cold undertones of something that had not been touched for a long time. The Spirit of the Labyrinth tightened his fingers around it, warning him implicitly not to drop it or let go of it. "For," it said tellingly, "You now hold your bond mate's soul in your hands."

Time stopped. Jareth stared down at the raw diamond, seeing the sunlight begin to flick dimly off certain of its facets. Karen and Harold drew near and Arienne spared a glance behind him for this most precious of things. Then he remembered his job and speedily went back to it.

Jareth cradled it gently in his palm and covered it in his other hand. The Spirit pushed the chair from a nearby desk to the bedside. "Sit," it said sympathetically, "It will be a long journey for your mortal and though he cannot now leave, his body might still die, leaving him trapped between the worlds. I wish for your sake that there was more that I could do."

"You have done more than I asked," Jareth said softly, "Thank you."

The Spirit offered one more wildly beautiful smile and then disappeared, leaving the room in silence. Arienne's quiet voice broke the stillness, asking Harold to take a particular potion from his bag and stand at the ready.

"When I remove my hands," he said quietly, "I want you to pour as much of that bottle over the injury as you can. Understood?"

"Sure," Harold said thickly, "What does it do?"

"It will help the flesh begin to heal itself. All right... now!"

The wads were removed and half the bottle made it onto the wound before Arienne clapped his hands back down, stifling the sluggish welling of blood.

"When do we stitch it?" Karen asked.

"Soon. Once the potion takes effect."

For two days they stayed, occasionally leaving the room to eat or drink or get some sleep. Arienne had stitched the wound fairly soon after the first dose of the potion, pleased because the bleeding had slowed and finally stopped. But only time and careful care could determine whether Toby's drained body would continue to cling to life. The greyish pallor had not left and the bloodlessness was not lessening. But Arienne announced that his pulse was stronger and that there was warmth in his body that had not been there before. Arienne had not announced the actual catalogue of the boy's injuries. And Arienne had had a long, stern conversation with the Goblin King about certain secrets that he shared with the boy.

"He was brutally abused, Jareth, and you tell me this isn't the first time," the goblin has hissed, tending to the hurts with quick, light hands.

Jareth had paled but held his composure as he watched his healer at work. "He has never been raped so badly before."

"Rape is rape, Jareth. I thought you would understand that by now. Look at him! And you allowed him to hide it as if it was something to be ashamed of?"

Jareth hadn't replied. It hadn't been his decision to make, he reasoned with him, to force Toby to go to Arienne in the first place. He had only done what was necessary to make sure that Toby still got the care and attention that he needed. He hadn't allowed Toby to think it was shameful. He couldn't possibly do a thing like that when he didn't even believe in it.

Unless Toby had misunderstood, in the darkness of his own mind.

So for those two days and nights, Jareth stayed exactly where he was, moving only to walk slowly around the room, gazing intently at the things from a childhood he had never been there to witness- posters, books, games... various paraphernalia of a life before he had entered it. And his fingers remained locked around the precious gem in his left fist, holding on with a grim determination. Trying to understand his bond mate.

On the afternoon of the third day, Jareth woke up with a start.

Something was wrong... again! How many things had gone wrong? Why now? But there was definitely something wrong for the raw diamond in his hand was beginning to burn his palm, shifting and singeing as if trying to be free. He clenched his fingers tighter, terrified by what this might mean. Fearful eyes looked to the body lying still and unconscious on the bed, seemingly unknowing of the inner struggle of its person in the outer world. Jareth wondered wildly what was to happen now. Was this death, then? Why the bloody hell was nobody left in the room but himself? What was he supposed to do- let go?

"No," he growled, shaking his head as if Toby could actually hear and see him, "You are not leaving. Not now!"

The gem made to struggle harder and the smell of burning flesh began to seep into the room.

"No! I won't let you go, Toby. I can't..."

"Jareth? What's going on? What's happening?"

Sarah! Sarah would help him, wouldn't she? In his own desperation he felt like he was losing his mind but pushed that thought away. There would be time enough to recover his loss of dignity when Toby was awake again. "Toby's soul is trying to escape."

"Why?" Sarah walked hurriedly to Jareth. She touched the wrist of the hand straining to keep its prize and felt the steel bite out at her. Such a strain meant that the soul was really exerting an effort. "Jareth, you've got to let go!"

"Are you mad? After all of this, to just let him die?"

"We don't know that..."

"I will not let him die!"

"Jareth, what you want and what he needs are two different things! You can't force him to be where he does not belong."

"He belongs with me!"

The stone suddenly blazed so hard that he groaned in pain, cradling the limb close to his chest as he absorbed it. Pain was not something he enjoyed, but he knew how to bear it and so he did, forcing his nerves to open to it, inviting it in so that it did not hurt even more when it finally conquered.

"Jareth, do you love him?" Sarah's green eyes were so worried, looking into his with a level of sympathy that even a few hours ago would have been scorned and thrown back in her face. But then there was Ben, and Jareth might only have met him two days ago, but only the blind would not be able to tell that Sarah and Ben were as in love as he seemed to be.

By all that was pure, he was in love!

The shock made the half-goblin stare down at his hand, made him relax his fingers. When the devil had he fallen in love? Was this even love? But if Toby were to die he felt he would go mad! He fervently thought of guilt, or responsibility and neither of them seemed to explain why he felt such affinity for a mortal.

Sarah's hand tightened on his wrist and shook slightly. "Jareth, this is not the time for a major epiphany," she growled, "Let go of him."

"I can't," the Goblin King murmured, still transfixed by his thoughts, "What will be left if he goes?" Silence settled into the room and even the dimness of the sick room was stifling as emotions began to overflow. "I can't let him go. Not like this."

He looked down again to his hand and slowly watched Sarah uncurl her fingers from his wrist. The jean-clad legs took a generous step back and an arm covered by the sleeve of an over-large sweater signalled him to make his decisions. "You can't keep him only because you think he should stay."

"If he lives," Jareth said slowly, "I'll take him back. I'm selfish and I can't give him up after all this. But what if he dies? What will I have left?"

"I don't care," Sarah said brutally, "It's not my business. But if he dies, then he does. It's the way of the world here, Goblin King. We die! We're mortal and that's what we do! But you have to risk this. For Toby. If you really care a hang about him."

Jareth nodded. And opened his fingers.

The stone dissolved before his eyes even focused on it, leaving nothing but badly burnt flesh behind as a remembrance that it had ever existed. The Goblin King stared blankly at his hand and then looked to the bed.

Nothing had changed, it seemed. Toby still lay on his back with his eyes closed and his skin chalky.

Sarah rolled up her sleeves and pulled a chair up next to him. "Dad and Karen are asleep," she murmured, "You won't mind if I sit here?"

"I won't even attempt to change your mind," he replied numbly, not even looking to her. Why did death have to hurt? Why the hell had nothing in his unnaturally long life ever been simple? He hated the sight of death, the way it always stroked grey, unforgiving pallor into warm skin. He had thought he would be able to bear it after all this time, but it felt even worse than before. All he had ever asked for was a normal life and just look at the trouble he was always embroiled in! How was he to deal with all this? How could he reconcile the lover he knew in his dreams with this anguished reality? How could he even think of that still body as his lover? This child? This sixteen-year-old boy would be reason enough for all sensible people to despise him, for what he had done. Or failed to do, at any rate.

"Jareth, what happened yesterday when Arienne was examining him? He seemed very upset by something when he came out. You were here; what was it?"

Sunlight flickered as a cloud chased across the sky. Jareth still didn't even give evidence of having heard anything. Until he sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. "It's a long story," he muttered, "And one that it is not my business to tell you."

So he told her- every last brutal thing that had ever occurred in the Underground and had then followed to the Aboveground as well. Sarah went white and clapped her hand to her mouth, unable to believe that such a thing was possible. But it was, and Jareth assured her it was all true. He gently turned the still figure on the bed on its side and showed her the lacerations with a firm hand even though she looked away and would not see where he indicated.

"I didn't know," she protested, sensing an accusation against herself and not sure which of them it came from. "He- he didn't even tell me!"

Jareth snorted and sat back down beside her. "My elf would scorn to show a weakness," he said plainly, "It would take a broken day for him to admit to it. Are you actually surprised that he did not tell you of his private shame?"

"But there is no shame!"

Knowing eyes pinned the woman to her seat. "Indeed? When a child has grown thinking homosexuality to be wrong and perverted, think you he will not be shamed beyond reasoning to be raped? I only wonder why he did not seek to kill himself instantly. He might have; there are means enough in the Underground too."

"There was no reason for him to kill himself in the Underground," Sarah reasoned slowly, trying to sort it out in her head by thinking out loud, "You would have stopped him. Right?"

"Well, yes! But..."

"No buts! You want to know what made Toby suicidal? You did! Maybe he did grow up thinking homosexuality was wrong, but you made him hate himself because you showed him that everything he'd ever thought was wrong wasn't. And he might have handled even that if you hadn't thrown him away like so much garbage."

"I did not!"

"Did too!"

"Never!"

Eyelashes so blond that they were near to invisible began to flutter and when blue eyes slitted open, it was to look up in a bemused and befuddled way at a ceiling that seemed so familiar that it was strange. There were voices... voices that were far away but arguing. He knew an argument when he heard it and he was so tired. He wanted to tell them to stop but he couldn't; opening his mouth took too much energy.

Toby drifted back to welcome darkness. It was so cold in this world; he wanted to return to where he had been, to that warm deep cavern that smelt of comfort and felt like warm water. Everything hurt here. Everything was too loud and garish. He felt his heart begin to slow. And unconsciousness took him away, drifted back over him once more.

Sarah saw a slight movement from the corner of her eye and stiffened, jerking around and making inelegantly for the bed on which the current topic of contention still lay. There was no change that she could see, but something...

Jareth joined her but his fingers instead reached straight for his bond mate's cheek. "He's warm," he whispered, "There is blood flowing in his veins again! I can almost hear it thrum beneath his skin."

"That sounds disgusting," Sarah answered back, "Are you sure? Don't lie, Jareth."

"My dear, I would not lie about this," he swore, his hand stroking the warming face, so precious in its recent brush with death, "I think it; I'm not sure. Arienne will be back soon and he must check, but I do think it."

"Thank God! I'll go tell Karen and Dad; they'll want to know. Will you stay?"

"I won't leave." It sounded as though Jareth was talking directly to the sleeping child on the bed. "Not now."

The half-goblin perched on the side of the bed, draping a warm body over the small one on the sheets, willing his own strength into it, wishing it would arch up to meet him. Every part of them seemed to fit together, and the mortal youth seemed made for this position alone. He thought with relief of the better chances that Toby would come out of this alive and well. But not whole. And he did ache at the remembrance that his bond mate would only have to wake up to more pain, more indignity. He thought of what he would have to ask Toby to describe for him.

"I swear, my elf, no matter what else happens, you have me with you," he whispered.

From nowhere there was music. There always had been and Jareth had always known this song though he had never ever thought he would sing it to someone else like this. This had been his, the one part of himself and his own manic mood swings that he had kept sacred and secret. Even Archer had never heard this song.

He began to sing softly, feeling a small smile curve his lips as he nuzzled gently against a pale golden neck:

_"Time takes a cigarette... puts it in your mouth... you pull on a finger, then another finger... then the cigarette..."_

The words seemed so imminently suitable to everything the both of them had. For both were so alone, lost in themselves to the exclusion of everyone else. And nothing else had really mattered. They were perhaps both selfish that way, but Jareth didn't care. Not for nothing was he King. And Toby would have anything for the asking, any comfort, any desire his heart fixed on.

_"...you walk past the cafe... but you don't eat 'cause you've lived too long... oh, no, no! you're a rock n' roll suicide..."_

Fluttering pulse and fluttering eyelashes. Nothing mattered and everything made sense as the world aligned in a startling swing of perspective. If this was madness then it felt very much like love and that was all right. It was a friend coming home. This, Jareth could understand. For bond mates and lovers were always mad and everything in the Goblin King's life had been hinged on insanity or worse.

_"...don't let the sun blast your shadow... don't let the milk float drive your mind... so natural, religiously unkind..."_

Toby heard a Dream once more, whispering words softly and sweetly in his ear and he drifted into them.

_"Oh no, luv, you're not alone... you're watching yourself but you're too unfair... you've got your head all tangled up... but if I could only make you care..."_

Jareth cared. Somewhere in himself Toby knew that, heard the words and felt them infiltrate his dreams where he could see them written in neon across his brain.

_"Oh no, luv, you're not alone... no matter what or who you've been..."_

And he had been so many things- toy, bitch, slave... the list was endless! And it hurt, searing him to remember the bleak darkness of those hours of the night when he'd been so lost to despair, the knife that had stroked his skin, the way he had been forced!

_"No matter when or where you've seen... all the knives seem to lacerate your brain..."_

And the final throb of pain when he had been left, discarded and disgraced, so ashamed and heartbroken that he had not even been able to mourn for himself. The knife handed considerately back to him because he wasn't even worth the final end that would possibly bring a little dignity back to him. He had picked it up and finished it himself. And when the knife had entered it had filled him with the most ecstatic of pains and he had been bitterly amused by the irony that it all it took was one penetration to kill him. And how that irony had burned in his throat!

_"I've had my share... I'll help you with the pain... you're not alone."_

The last was whispered directly to the warm, wide lips that were so still in repose. And Jareth imagined them conscious once more, mobile and smiling, reaching to kiss and speak, swollen and reddened with desire and want...


End file.
